


My Type

by omonaut



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omonaut/pseuds/omonaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You step out of the house for once to attend a big house party, hoping to maybe meet a guy to sweep you off your feet. Did you expect to tie fates with a giant metal villain with an ego as shiny as his finish? Probably not. Are you complaining?</p><p>Definitely not.</p><p>(Easy-going plot -- some fluff some drama. Sex happens after bond is formed. Strong and funny female reader insert. Well-written canonical characters. Updates infrequently, but at least it updates.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Super Foreign

**Author's Note:**

> [[[Nov 29, 2014: I think I fixed all the errors... should be good to go!]]]
> 
> Ayy:
> 
> So, this is my first time posting fanfiction... or /anything/ like this. I've never really been inclined to until I started watching Transformers Prime, where I really was into the characters and plot and I had feels and I was sobbing at 2 AM over robots and buying the soundtrack on Amazon and-- U G H  
> I'm used to roleplaying with my friends and doing character development, so hopefully the story writing skills I've learned over time will help me make a lovely story about my favorite egotistical decepticon, Knockout! ❤ I do really hope you enjoy the story, feel immersed and all that. I want to show the.... /human/ side of Knockout that might be a bit easier for others to relate to. Hurr hurr.  
> Gonna try to keep it light hearted for the most part-- I get bored of angst very quickly, you see-- and make sure to get to the good parts as quickly as I can. Unless it's suggested that I make longer chapters. But for now, light hearts and good parts. Enjoy, cutie. *wink wink* ❤
> 
> \- PER ASPERA ★ AD ASTRA, Luani  
> 

_A party? Really, now?_ Well, being in the middle of pretty much Nowhere, Nevada, it’s not a terrible idea for meeting a special someone. Though what is special about anyone here? You’re almost certain you’ve seen every single guy in this desert town, so why bother showing up at a party filled with people that you’re tired of?

You sigh as you look over your outfit before you leave out for the night: a cute oversized sweater and a pair of black high-waisted shorts with sheer tights underneath; ankle boots that you might have spent too much money on; you didn’t spend a lot of time on your hair, but it’s only because it was admittedly perfect without much work anyways. You looked great, and it made you wonder why you could never find a nice guy to date. Sure, guys hit on you but... well, not the kind you were hoping to attract. To put it lightly, these guys were absolute creeps with only one thing on their mind. _Those creeps aren’t getting any of this. I’m going to this party and it’s gonna be awesome. Tonight will be different. Tonight has got to be different._

Maybe tonight _will_ be different. You’ve got a gut feeling that something good will happen tonight... that gut feeling actually could be something else related to the free tacos incident a few hours prior, but for now you wanted to believe that it was fate saying to get out of the house and quit being so pessimistic.

\--

The house the party is being held at is only 15 minutes away by foot. You walk up to the curb and the house is a lot bigger than you thought it would be, and people are legit already passed out on the front lawn. Wow. Before you continue on, a gentle spark catches the corner of your eye. You glance over and see the most gorgeous red sports car you’d ever seen. Not many people know how adamant you are about cars of all kinds.As children, your brother never shut up about them, and constantly had magazines laying around the house. Bored out of your mind from playing doll, you picked up a magazine and admired this new kind of sparkly and pretty models. The curves, the different colors and makes, the speed and the power of each car blew your mind. This car, though, topped everything you thought you knew about cars. This one was out of this world when it came to its shape and luster. _What a beauty!_ , you think to yourself as you approach the front of the car. The paint job almost glows with how clean and smooth it is, as if this car had never been on the road in its life. With a gentle touch, you run your fingers along the hood of the car as you walk towards the side. It's windows are heavily tinted, which piques your curiosity.

"What are you hiding in there?" Without really thinking, your hand guides itself to the door handle and pulls. The door is unlocked to your surprise, and you stand there a little dumbfounded. A moment passes before you decide to sit down in the driver's seat and close the door behind you. The inside smelled lovely, and the leather seating was comfortable to the touch. You run your fingers over the steering wheel, and you could have sworn you felt the engine purr ever so slightly. Startled, you check to see if a key was in the ignition... but of course there isn't.  You brush it off, and turn your attention to a strange insignia imprinted in the middle of the wheel. It's nothing you've ever seen before. Must be super foreign. "You're one of a kind, that's for sure. I can appreciate that."

" **Mm, and I appreciate _you_ appreciating _me_**."

What. _What._ You look around frantically-- the backseat, the passenger seat, the ceiling, the floor-- and nobody was around. The voice definitely came from inside, but _where?_ "Wh-who said that?! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break into your car, I was just looking and your door was unlocked!"

.... No reply. But you could not have possibly imagined that voice. Maybe it was the car? Maybe the car talks...like a built-in GPS. Or like a companion that talks to you if you get stuck on the road. The more possibilities that you think of, the cooler this car gets. "I'm gonna step out then...Car. You have a good one out here, and try to keep warm. Your owner is very lucky to have you." You smile warmly and pat the wheel a couple of times before exiting the vehicle. You pass the front of the car once more and head towards the house-- and the engine revved softly, the lights blinking a couple of times before shutting off as if it was never on. The smile never left your face as you finally pry yourself away from your new mechanical friend.

You take care to step over the drunken bodies and make your way into the house. Inside, it feels like the population of Nevada is jammed up into this mansion, so shimmying past people was a chore. The music is unnecessarily loud, but tolerable for now since you like the song that blasts from the towering speakers in the living room. The entire house bumps and vibrates with the bass humming throughout. Bodies gyrate and move all around you, and you feel like a ghost just wandering through without any real aim. You catch glances of some cute boys here and there, but of course they've either got a drink in their hand or their eyes on some other girl's ass. Or both. You roll your eyes and let your feet wander more, just enjoying being out of the house. 

Not fifteen minutes had passed before you run into bullshit.

A guy approaches you from behind and shouts to be heard over the music, "Hey, baby! It's so good to see you!"

You turn. Some tall, brick house of a dickbag was hovering over you, smiling. His breath was incredibly rancid with the stench of alcohol and the way he looked at you was unwanted, to say the least. " _Baby_?" You retort, cocking your hip to the side and glaring at him. You didn't know this guy and he was already over stepping so, so, _so_ many boundaries. "I don't know who the hell you think you're talking to, but I'm already tired of dealing with you." You try moving away, but there are just too many people crowding around you, so you resort to just looking anywhere else but at this jackass. The only thing more interesting than him was the table at your side. Cups of punch are scattered about it (some of them look like they might have been drank out of). _Tempting_ , you think with a slightly parched mouth, _but they're probably all spiked. Is that what I smell on your breath, Tall Dark and Stupid?_

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a big, clumsy hand land on your shoulder. "Baby... don't be that way... I'm just trying to have a little fun with ya!"

"Fun. Your idea of fun is being a creep on girls at parties who obviously don't want your attention, then?"

He pulls back and his face screws up comically, putting a hand to his chest as if mortally offended by your words. You wish it had offended him to the point where he would leave you alone, but no such luck. "I'm no creep, okay? I'm a proper gentleman-- _hic_ \-- and I really just want to get to know you! Such a pretty girl, you are...like, damn." He mutters something drunkenly, his eyes following another girl as she scooted by. "Listen," he continues, sticking his pointer finger at you with the rest of his fingers curled around a half empty cup of something or other, "let me get to know you. I'll show you a real good time then, yeah? Like, vroom vroom _all_ night! Ahaha! --hic--So, tell me, pretty girl: what's your type?"

For a split second, you actually don't really know. You didn't have a specific type; just anybody who wasn't like this guy. You try thinking of someone that you really admire. Someone that you might have been interested in for even half an hour before getting bored. Someone who you felt a spark with.

And then you get the perfect image in your head of a certain red car you saw on your way to this over-stuffed, alcohol-drenched party you tried dragging yourself to. You turn on your heel to face him, cocking your head and smiling bitterly. “ _Cars_. Cars are my type. _Vroom vroom,_ jackass _._ ” Your fingers tighten around a random red cup and flick forward, splashing punch into his face. You decide he looks a whole lot better when he's on his knees and not being an annoying creep. The crowd around you turned their attention towards you and the guy, and amused _ooh's_ and scattered laughter was the last thing you heard before making a bee-line to the front door again. You strut furiously down the path, this time not being so courteous of those bodies lazily strewn about in the yard.

You make it to the curb and look over to see if that strange car is still parked in the same spot. And it is. And it's accompanied by a rather dapper looking man who you're sure you'd never seen before. Something about him throws you off, yet you still want to chat with him. As you approach casually, you examine this stranger quickly: Neat, red hair that matches the color of the car. It's combed back with a few stray bits, but he makes it look good. A black tank top with a slightly oversized blazer. Pressed black suit pants, dress shoes, and an expensive looking watch. His face is thin and his features are sharp. He looks a bit dangerous, especially with that cat-like grin and strange red contacts, but you aren't the least bit afraid or shaken. You're actually attracted to him, the longer you look and the closer you get. You wonder what a guy like _that_... is doing at a party like _this._

You're not too far away from him now. His body is leaning up against the car's side, and he isn't turned to you but is probably examining you as well from the corner of his eye. Only as you approach, merely two feet away from him, does he fully acknowledge you. He's very tall now that he's upright, you note. He looks down at you, and he seems incredibly disinterested with his grin gone and a thick, black eyebrow cocked. He tilts his head and puts his hands on his waist. "Are you back to steal my vehicle away? Criminal returning to the scene of the crime, it looks like." Your entire face turns hot and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, especially now that he's grinning again. For a split second you think his voice sounds very familiar, but don't think much of it. You look away before speaking again.

"I wasn't...going to steal your car. I was just admiring it. Up close. Really close. Like, from the inside with my hands on the wheel and my foot on the pedal close."

He leans in closer, and his eyes lock onto yours in a threatening way. "Yes, I recall your little digits running wild and touching whatever you could."

"...I'm sorry?" 

"I mean," he says pulling away from you, a certain nervousness suddenly weaved throughout his tone, "that my car and I are very close. We're like one being, you could say. We're connected and I, ah, could just sense that someone was messing with me-- my car. You had better be glad your hands are clean, because I just had it waxed and buffed and everything!"

 _This guy is really in love with his car..._ "Well, thanks. I guess. I do appreciate hygiene. A-and your car!" You try changing the subject a little, gesturing towards the sports car. "It's really great! It looks amazing, to be honest, a-and actually I was just wondering just what kind of car it was? I mean, I think I've seen something similar but this is just beautiful. And it looks like it goes hyper speeds in no time, and handles turns like a pro, and doesn't take too much gas, and is _super_ foreign! I mean look at it! And that symbol on the wheel, what--"

"Can I give you a ride home, hun?" he asks, that dangerous smirk returning suddenly..

You pause and look down at your hands. As you spoke, they seem to have found their way onto the passenger side door handle and were tugging at it. "Uh...yes, please."


	2. Don't Worry, I'm the Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is about to be revealed. Don't say he didn't warn you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Reader Insert is tired of Knock Out's shiiiiiiiiit~~  
>  Fair warning though, this chapter is short but full of shenanigans.

“So, you got a name?”

You look up at him after buckling yourself in, and smile shyly as you give him your name.

“Mm, (Y/N), eh? ...”He seems disinterested again, but the engine starts up without him putting a key in and he smirks suddenly. “Not the worst name I’ve heard so far, I suppose.”

You raise a totally not amused eyebrow at him. There’s nothing wrong with your name-- he must be joking. “Oh really?” You respond with a slightly sarcastic smile. “And so what’s your name, then? You look like a guy with a ‘cursive’ sounding name.” You cross your arms and expect to hear something only a rich, foreign guy with too much time on his hands to come up with. _It’s Prescott, I bet. Or Olgilvie. Shit, this guy is totally a Sebastian isn’t he? My mother always told me not to mess around with Sebastians_.

“I... am Knock Out,” the red-haired chauffeur stated proudly. A little too proudly, you think.

You stare at him, waiting for him to say that he’s kidding, and his real name is actually Sebastian. But he doesn’t, and your mouth hangs open a little bit in surprise. “Knock Out...” You repeat quietly. “Is that, like, code for something? Maybe a nickname they called you in high school?” The car starts to pull out of the parking space, though he’s barely touching the wheel. He glances over at you with that judgmental look you’re entirely too used to at this point.

 

“No,” he murmurs, “it’s my real name and it’s a fitting one. Unlike yours, (Y/N). What does a (Y/N) do? How does one (Y/N)? Names are supposed to describe you, give the audience a feel of what you can really do.”

_The audience...?_ “Maybe that’s what you think anyways,” you mutter, slinking down in your seat a bit as you start to ponder if your name really describes you, “but it’s not like I chose my name. And it’s most certainly not like my name isn’t normal. Who names their kid something like that?” You almost regret asking, because he doesn’t respond nor look at you. He actually looks a smidgeon nervous again as he bites his lip, as if he knows the answer but is deciding whether or not it’s a great idea to tell you. You look out the window to avoid the awkward silence, even though it’s pretty much filling up the car and weighing down the air with tension.

Knock Out reaches the intersection, and asks where you live....though his voice is tinged with something unreadable. It could be anger, but it also sounds tired or sad. You give him some simple directions, and he begins to follow.

“It’s a cool name,” you finally decide to pipe up after a while. “It’s unique. I’m sure there aren’t a lot of people with the same name as yours and that’s really lucky.” You watch him in the corner of your eye, and spot him holding back a smile.

“What can I say,” Knock Out says, his confidence returning full force in his voice and his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I’m a cool guy!” Suddenly, the car speeds off down the road, completely missing your turn.

You let out a shriek and he responds with hearty laughter.“Knock Out, what the absolute hell?! My house is _that_ way, I said!”

“Don’t you worry, doll face! I’m just showing you exactly what I can do!” In a matter of minutes, the two of you are on the outskirts of town and racing down the long stretch of road. The windows roll down automatically, and the wind rushes in and cools down your face. You want to be upset and tell him to turn around, but you’re enjoying this feeling way too much. The car was going at top speed, and Knock Out was shouting and whooping at the top of his lungs. You joined him, feeling exhilarated and pumped as the car roared it’s way down the street. The road began to lead onto a narrow path on the side of a cliff, railed off on one side to prevent accidents. You turn to him and shout,

“Y-you’re gonna slow down here, right?”

“Now why would I do that?” He turns to you as well and raises his eyebrows at the sight of you clenching the sides of the seats and glaring at him with the burning intensity of an active volcano. “What? You think I can’t handle a little challenge?”

“I’m not ready to die, Knock Out-- just slow down!”

“You’re not gonna die tonight, (Y/N). And plus, if anything does happen I’ll just fix you up! I’ll have you know that not only am I good looking, I’m also an esteemed doctor where I come from.”

“And where is that?!”

“I’ll let you know if we make it!”

“IF?!”

With no signs of slowing down, the flexible car easily maneuvers around all the sudden turns and jagged rocks along the narrow road. After ten minutes of narrowly escaping death, Knock Out finally decreases speed as the cliff adventure comes to an end. Your hair is a scruffy mess, and you’re hella dizzy and just about ready to heave. The drive comes to a complete stop, though the motor remains on. He genuinely asks if you’re okay, though all you can really respond with is a continuing stream of “holy shit”s.

\--

He lets you calm down, seeing that you’re kind of a shaky, stuttery pile of train wreck at the moment. Lots of things run through your mind as you stare out into the desert before you. _So he’s a doctor. But what kind of doctor? He looks so young. Is that normal where he comes from, then? And where does he come from? He said he’d tell me. I may be numb from that near-death experience, but he promised to tell me where he came from if we made it... that was pretty cool though, I’ll admit. Never been in a car that rides so smoothly. I bet it still looks nice on the outside._ You manage to look over at him, and notice he’s just staring off into space as well. His thin lips are slightly parted, his eyes are half lidded, and his eyes are furrowed in thought. You wonder what’s on his mind after all that speed-racing, if there’s anything on his crazy mind at all.

“Hey,” you whisper. He shifts a little to face you, and he grins slyly.

“Hey. You’re alive then. Good to hear. I was almost worried about you. _Almost_.” He reaches over without thinking, and pats a bit of your hair down. "I told you I'd get us here in one piece, didn't I?"

"You said _if_. And where is here?" You glance out the window and see some sand dancing about in the wind. Lots and lots of sand, and not much else. There's a gas station, but it looks closed down.

"Here is a lot better than back there at the party." True enough. Middle of the desert versus ratchet house party? Middle of the desert wins by landslide.

"Speaking of alive, you promised to tell me more about you." His whole face drops. He totally forgot, didn't he?... He sinks into his seat and taps his fingers on the insignia of the steering wheel. He looks like a little kid in time-out like that. "I mean, if that's alright with you," you continue, trying to comfort and coax him simultaneously. You try to think of something else to say to get him to talk, and remember how much his ego likes to be stroked. You stifle a smile worthy of evil genius status. "After all," you say, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes innocently, "I don't know many good-looking guys... especially none with such a beautiful ride and...and talent! And--"

He holds up a hand and straightens his posture, suddenly looking majestic and frankly totally full of himself. "Listen," he starts, his voice cool, calm, and collected, "I know I said I'd tell you where I come from and whatnot, but in the end it's probably best I just drive you back home. I don't think you could even comprehend my past, let alone my origin, without thinking I'm some weird-o lunatic." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head lightly. His posture droops a little. "Honestly, I really do wish we could talk more. I haven't talked with someone who enjoys me as much as I do before. But as much as I enjoy your company, (Y/N), I'm driving you home. And you've just got to forget we ever did this."

You stare at him blankly, fury bubbling up in your gut. You don't take very kind to people telling you what to do. And even less so to people who go back on their promises. "No," you say sternly. You unbuckle yourself and crawl over to the driver's side, straddling him so that you are between him and the steering wheel. You cross your arms and look down at him with a fierce fire in your eyes. "I'll run this car over a cliff if you don't tell me! I know I don't know every country in the world but it's not like I can't just do some research, right? You can't just take me on this wild ride and make me feel like this only to just leave me in the end! Tonight... was totally different in ways I didn't even expect. And it's all your fault, you dumb jerk." You weakly punch his chest, ignoring the stinging feeling in your eyes. "You promised. And I won't forgive you if you take me home now."

He looks at you with soft eyes. They may be glowing red, but there's something gentle about them as he watches you speak. His hands support your hips, and he leans forward so that your faces are merely centimeters away from one another. "I did promise....didn't I?" He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your neck. "You're a smart girl... a little whiny thing, but you can handle yourself just fine, can't you?" He looks up at you again, smiling. You look displeased at the "whiny" comment, but he only winks and continues quietly, "I'll tell you. But I can tell already you're either going to be pissed off or regret not letting me take you home."

"I'm already pissed," you retort with a smirk, a tear straying down your face. He brushes it away with a flick, and gestures for you to get off his lap. You crawl back over awkwardly and settle back down in your own seat.

He takes a deep breath. "....Wait."

"No."

"Bite me. Just promise me not to scream or freak out. Or, like, leak any fluids."

"...sure?"

His expression darkens, and then suddenly... it's like his body is a hologram. It tuts and blinks and fades and disappears before your very eyes. Knock Out is completely gone. You are totally alone, back to clenching the seats with wide eyes and stuttering a ton of "holy shit"s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is short. It just....felt right to end it there on a cliffhanger....I sorry........... ಠ益ಠ₌₃ The next chapter might be long if I can figure out what da fizzity-uck it's going to look like.


	3. Iron Giant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out spills the beans about just who or what he is. Reader Insert pees a little.

**“(Y/N)? You there, hun?”**

That voice. That familiar voice. It’s Knock Out’s but it’s coming from the car. His tone is gentle as he attempts to ease your shivering body. **“(Y/N), answer me. It’s not that bad, right? You like this car anyways, so it’s not like--“**

“Like what?” You suddenly say, sitting upright and jabbing a finger at the dashboard as if accusing it of some heinous crime. “Not like a guy just vanished and turned into the spirit of a magic talking car?!”

Knock Out’s engine revs, and he responds in a similar angry fashion, **“I am not a _magic talking car_! I’m-- agh, you really wanna know the whole story, (Y/N)?”**

Feelings of frustration courses through you, but at the same time there is something that wanted to just say no. Maybe it really is just best you go home and erase all this from your mind. It would bound to be a hell of a lot easier than whatever this story of his was going to be like. Talking to a car was already freaky enough-- did you really want to get caught up in this madness?... Curiosity kicks fear in the ass at times like these. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and crossing your arms. “Yes. The whole story. Now.”

**“You asked for it,”** Knock Out replies after a moment, his voice stern and calm. **“You might have guessed I’m not from around here. You’re not wrong-- I come from a planet called Cybertron, which is home to many other mechs like me.”** For a long time, he explains what Cybertron is like; the war between Autobots and Decepticons; sparks, Primus, and Unicron; the search for relics... everything. You’ve moved to the driver’s seat as he speaks, and sit comfortably with your legs folded and your hands cupping your confused face. All of what he says sounds like something right out of a science fiction novel. It’s impossible. None of it makes sense, but Knock Out speaks as though every bit of it is an important piece of real history. His voice vibrates throughout the interior when he spits venom about the Autobots. When he sighs, reflecting on his fallen partner, you feel air seeping out of the vents for a brief moment. The seats heat up when he leafs through memories of Megatron’s wrath and Starscream’s constant betrayal. _This car really is alive_ , you think fondly. Knock Out’s story comes to an end, and it the atmosphere inside feels cold and dark as the world outside turns to the wee hours. The only source of light or life where you all have parked are the twinkling stars above. You wonder if one of them might be Cybertron. Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll take you there one day after the war is over. As much as you’d love to see alien cars beat the shit out of each other, you hate thinking that even advanced alien life forms that were supposed to be way smarter than humans were engaging in war. You run a hand through your hair, thousands of questions darting around in your head.

“So, this car...this is you?” You pat the steering wheel, and look around with a brand new curiosity.

“ **...Yes and no.** ”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“ **Get out.** ”

“For what? Can’t you just tell me? I’m already over your nerd planet and your bad guys brigade-- just tell me. ”

“ **...(Y/N).** ”

You groan. This seat had gotten super comfortable during his rant and you really did not feel like moving. But who knows what kind of other secrets this guy had up his tailpipe? You exited the vehicle and stood in front of it.

“Right. Now tell me.”

He sighs. “ **Move back.** ”

You groan again and move back a couple of feet. He tells you to back up more and more and more... “Really, dude? Are you serious?”

“ **Trust me,** ” he says with that damned smirk in his voice, “ **I’m doing you a favor, doll face.** ”

You’re about to snap at him for that “doll face” remark but a sudden symphony of whirring and clunking stops you. Parts of the car flip and twist as it expands towards the sky. The wheels tuck back as the creature becomes more human-like in form as seconds pass. You stare upwards, unaware of your mouth dangling open. You can’t think of a single thing to say, as the car that you were pretty sure was a car... wasn’t really a car anymore. It's a mechanical titan; an enormous metal beast with a beautiful red paint job that sparkled delicately in the moonlight.

The titan looks down at you, clearly amused with your frozen state. " _This_ is me." It gestures down from its head to its waist with it's thin, sharp-looking, silver claws as if it were showing off it's intimidating robot body at a beauty pageant. It's eyes glow red, and its features are sharp. The top of its body is broad, and chest bits look exactly like the headlights of the car you were just in. You tilt your head to the side, squinting your eyes...Now that you think about it, a lot of this machine had the exact parts of the car. _There's no fucking way..._ You manage to move forward. The closer you get, the bigger it seems. _He_ seems, you remind yourself. _This... this is Knock Out. He's not a car, he's a big ass robot that likes to look like a car!_ You stand right in-between his pedes, frowning at him. 

"And what are you upset about?" he asks, shifting his weight and placing his servos on his hips.

"I'm not upset." You don't think you are anyways. He didn't really lie to you about who he was, you mull over in your head. What would you have done if he had introduced himself as an alien robot from space that disguises as a car in his spare time when you two first met? You most likely would have flicked him off and headed home to eat more tacos to numb the pain of boys being total weirdo creeps. You would never have gotten into the car a second time and gone on that amazing joyride. You really do like Knock Out-- he's not a bad guy. Well, he is according to Cybertronian lore or whatever. But he's okay to you for now. As long as he watches wear he steps and lets you go shopping around town in him, you don't have a problem with him. _Oh, but wait..._ "What about that hologram thing that was driving? Who, or what, was that?"

"A little science experiment," he says tapping his fingers together in a way only an evil doctor could. "Since I've decided to take a little vacation here on earth, I had to learn how to create a holographic form, and one that would reflect my attractiveness. It hadn't occurred to me that I might need to make some adjustments until after I got pulled over by authorities for speeding in a residential area. Couldn't get out of the car, so I just sped away. Again." He rolls his optics. "Anyways, after that little run in I retreated back to my lab to do some surgery on myself. Fun times."

"That's sick... keep going?"

"It took some time but I eventually created a formula that makes my holographic driver a tangible meat bag that can wander around like a little puppet under my control."

"Did you just call it a meat bag? Dude, don't call your baby a meat bag."

He lowers his head and gives you a look. It's not _too_ mean but it kind of sends shivers down your spine. Kind of like if you make a dick joke in front of your mom. "How long are you going to keep interrupting me?"

You can't help but smile, taking a cold, uninviting seat on his pede. "As long as you keep getting irritated at me. You're kind of adorable when you sass me." You stick your tongue out, and he does the same. "How did you do the thing?"

"What _thing_?"

"The transformation thingy. It was hella!"

"...H-hella?...I just-- we can all do _the thing_ ; we have organs just like you except they do different things and are way bigger than yours and could probably kill you if you even tried messing around with it. So don't! And get off of me. You're heavier than you look."

You totally ignore him, and lay down splayed across his pede, your sweater lifting up a bit. "You can't tell me what to do!" You close your eyes and move your arms and legs as if you were making snow angels, out of spite. 

"You're right. I can't," he says calmly. "But I _can_ dropkick you about ten thousand miles from here and I _doubt_ you'll survive the fall." You feel him starting to move, and you quickly scramble off of him. He probably wouldn't really kick you but, but it's 2 AM and you are too drained to take chances with the Iron Giant's evil cousin. He kneels down on one leg and moves his helm closer to you. He blinks slowly, and he smiles a little. He looks a little tired himself, but he also looks happy that you're here with him. You step closer until you're standing beneath his helm, out of his line of sight. "What are you doing down there...?" He reaches a servo down to grab you, but you push yourself back up into his frame. He feels cold and blocky, and his body's shadows surround you all around. 

"Knock Out..." you say softly, sitting underneath him with your knees drawn up to your chin and your hands tucked under them for warmth. His servo moves away. He doesn't respond, but you can tell he's listening. "It sounds like you're light years away from home. You probably miss it a lot, even though you're staying here. I get that. But we're friends now, okay? We're friends and you have a home with me if you need it. Don't make me worried about you being out here all the time." You lean against his ankle guard. "I don't care if you're a super evil alien robot doctor from space-- you're a dork and too lovely too be getting into fights all the time. I'll be the one kicking your ass at the end of the day if you get a single scratch on you while you're on 'vacation'."  


You hear a sigh, followed shortly after with an amused chuckle. "You can't tell me what to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAN YOU FEEL
> 
> THE LOOOOOOOOOVE TONIIIIIIIIGHT
> 
> THE PEACE THE ALL SPARK BRIIIIIIINGS


	4. Roomies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out isn't entirely sold on the idea of being Reader's roommate. (spoiler alert, he has no choice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too many ideas on how this story was going to progress from the last chapter, which is why this one took so long to get up ;v;

You wake up a little groggy to find yourself parked in front of your apartment. You're bucked in snuggly, and the air conditioner blows gently on your face. The sun isn't that far from rising. You look around the car, stretching out your scrunched up limbs and yawning. 

"I hope you had a good nap," Knock Out says with a deep, tired rasp. "You're home, just like I promised."

You peer out the tinted window. Your apartment building was tall and clean-looking.  It's not anything fancy, but it's still very nice and lofty. Only a little expensive, but luckily you're able to afford it. After all, you'd rather spend a little more money on a place that doesn't have holes on every surface imaginable and roaches as tiny tenants. You unbuckle yourself and reach out for the handle. 

"…Well, _we're_ home. Just like I promised, too."

"Uhh, pardon?" 

 "I said that you have a home with me, Knock Out. I wasn't just shooting the breeze with you-- I meant it. You're staying with me."

 The car's passenger door unlocks and swings open. "I'm doing no such thing," Knock Out replies indignantly. "I'm not staying anywhere, especially not in there! I'm a free spirit, you know."

 "A free spirit? You're a giant talking robot that can't go anywhere unless he looks like a car. Or a red-haired mafia boss." You think for a second before smirking and crossing your arms thoughtfully. "What you need is someone who can show you the ropes of being a human. Take you shopping, teach you how to cook and clean, how to take care of your physical self--"

 " _Please_ ," he interrupts, "like I need any help with that! I'm a grown bot-- I can take care of myself just fine!"

 You glare at the steering wheel. "Grown bot? Do you know how to pay your bills? Do you even have a driver's license?"

 "I don't need to know how to do any of that--"

 "Oh, yes you do! If you're going to be staying here as a human, you need to know how to do things that we do! I don't care if you're a grown bot-- it's time for you to learn how to be a grown _human_. And I volunteer to sacrifice precious minutes of my busy life to guide you through!"

 He huffs. "How _thoughtful_ of you."

 "So," you say, stepping out of the car and then turning with your hand held out to it, "you coming in? Roommate?"

 A moment passes before a human Knock Out phases in where you once sat, and takes your hand. "This is only a temporary shelter. I'm not staying with you forever."

 "Mm-hm." You assist his physical body out of the car, and as he straightens he towers over you once again.

 "I'm only saying yes because I want confirm my suspicions that your home is just as unruly as your attitude."

 "You're saying yes because you're sick of sitting outside with no roof over your head all the time."

 His eyes widen. A peculiar look crosses his face for a moment and his grip tightens around your hand. "…Yes," he murmurs, "I suppose there's no point in denying that." He smiles weakly and releases your hand. You feel a little sad for him, but only for a split second; you realize that before this, he was kind of homeless. Wandering around with no one to talk to or relays. Spending days in the dry Nevada sun, struggling through some harsh rainy nights. He's had it rough. But now… now you've given him a home. He says it's only temporary, but you internally call bullshit. There's no way he would prefer to keep roaming than to have a stable place to relax and be with good company. You smile to yourself, just imagining having him as a new roommate and teaching him all about human things. _He's only smart when it comes to mech stuff. I'll have to show him human things like groceries and… showering._ Hm. A certain image flashed through your mind of his body without all those clothes on, shiny and wet with the shower head rinsing over him. _Yeah… I guess I'll have to get in there with him, at least to get the tougher to reach spots…_

"Ehh, (Y/N)?" Your naughty, but totally generous day dream comes to an end when your new roomie calls out to you. "Are we going inside or are you just going to stand there with that charming liquid dribble hanging out of your mouth?"

_Shit! I'm drooling!_ You wipe your mouth with the back of your arm as you jog up to the door and unlock it. "Sorry! Sorry… Was just thinking about how much fun we were going to have together."

 "As much fun as two attractive people can have in a room together, I suppose." He smirks at your startled expression. Too many sexy thoughts fill up your brain at once, and you shake your head to keep yourself from drooling again.

 "…You're sleeping on the couch," you mutter, wagging a finger at him.

\--

 

You unlock the door to your home and decide not to turn the lights on. The curtains were wide open, letting in a bit of the twilight shine in and softly illuminate the rooms just enough to safely navigate. "Welcome home, Red. Make yourself comfy." You stretch again, tossing your keys onto the cocktail table and flopping down on the couch in an unladylike manner.

 Knock Out has trouble concealing his judgmental eyes and purses lips as he looks around. "It's bigger than I thought it would be. Which is good. But the way your furniture is arranged--"

 "Do not talk shit about my house. Just be glad I decided to let you in after that comment you made outside."

 He pouts, making his way over to the couch as well. He shoves your leg away and places it atop your other leg so that they're crossed and posed a little more politely, then takes a seat. 

 "…Real leather?" He asks, patting a cushion.

 "Nah," you reply, hoisting your legs up and crossing them over Knock Out's. "I know I look like I own a yacht, but it's really more of an over-decorated wooden boat with no paddles. I got most of my things from my parents and friends back at home."

 "So you're not from around here either?"

 You think about it... You're way too tired for irony.  "I guess not. I'm still in charge, though." You smile a little.

 So does he, with an added cheeky wink. "Sure thing, doll."

 "Doll…", you repeat sleepily. You sit up, wrap your arms around his neck, and rest your head on his chest. _No heartbeat.._. _Makes sense but it's still kind of creepy._  "I think you're the only one who can get away with calling me that."

 He hesitates before holding you in his arms by his waist and pulling you a little closer. "If you're going to sit on me like this, warn me. I almost dropped you, and I have no intention of taking responsibility for whatever happens afterward." He rolls his eyes and continues looking around the room, holding you close still.

 You sigh, looking up at him with sleepy eyes and a furrowed brow. _He's gonna make me lose my mind by the end of the week, one way or the other, isn't he?…Just hold me and quit complaining, you big goofball._  "Good night, Red," you finally say, shutting your eyes and snuggling into his chest.

 "I'm not sleeping with you in my arms."

 You pretend to be already asleep, snoring loudly and obnoxiously-- gross snorts and unnecessary whistles included. He groans before letting a sweet chuckle slip. He ruffles your hair and returns the good night. Soon enough, the both of you fall fast asleep, cuddled up comfortably and snoring with decent intensity.


	5. Skipping the Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing, out of all the things, Knock Out wants to experience as a human... showering. With Reader Insert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back to have a good time and honestly I feel so attacked right now

     The faint noise of a screaming woman startles you from your peaceful slumber. Your eyes open to a squint, a little blinded by the sunshine blasting between the curtains you opened a few hours ago. You look around your immediate surroundings to find that your new roommate wasn't tangled around you anymore. A tinge of hurt knots up in your stomach for a split second. You were kind of hoping to wake up to him by your side. _How romantic would that have been? I thought for sure he would have_ _stayed... was it something I said? Did I drool too much?_ You rub the corners of your mouth with your thumb, looking around the apartment some more. A second faint scream echoes from your bedroom, and you pause. Before making your way to the bedroom, you pass the kitchen and snatch a butcher knife from over the counter. For safety measures.

     You creep towards the door, your grip tightening around the handle of the knife, and reach out the doorknob. Knock Out sits cross legged at the foot of your bed, his eyes glue to the television screen. He seems to be totally engrossed in some black and white movie about a huge monster terrorizing some innocent town. At the sound of the door opening, he turns his attention to you with a blank expression.

     “...What?”

    Your eyelids lower with relief as you let out a sigh. _There he is. He didn't leave after all._ You lean up against the doorframe and cross your arms. “What are you doing in my room? He points the remote at the TV and the screen pauses. “I found a channel that showcases horror films all day, every day! Isn't that wonderful? It's so convenient... I would prefer viewing it on a much larger screen like at the drive-in theatres, but now I don't have to worry about watching those adolescent humans sucking each others' faces while I'm trying to enjoy the film.” He shudders, turning back to the television and unpausing.

     “So you're into earth movies then. I never would have guessed!” You step into the room, and take a seat next to him. You glance over at him. Even now he still towers over you as a human. _...Huh. That's right. You're a huge monster, too, in a way._ Your thoughts travel back to way earlier this morning when Knock Out revealed what he really was-- an enormous alien robot from a planet you'd never even heard of until then. And now, according to him, he's taking a vacation here in Nevada while taking up a human form he somehow created by some sort of experiment he performed on himself. _Crazy. I did ask for something different but... maybe I should be more specific next time. This situation is out of my league entirely. From what I know, it sounds like he could possibly be a major villain aside from that Megatron guy. Who knows if I can really trust Knock Out...? He's been kind so far. And warm. And..._

     After a moment, you realize he's staring right at you. The two of you are actually pretty close together, and your hands nearly meet on the bed. The expression in his eyes suggest some curiosity, or... or maybe something else. You want to pull away to avoid all this contact, but he suddenly murmurs your name, his eyebrows furrowing and his head tilting. Too many thoughts jumble up in your brain and you have no idea how to respond to any of what's happening! _Are we about to kiss? Wasn't he just complaining about that? I've never even been kissed. How does that work? Does he know how that works?_

      His eyes travel downward slowly. After a brief pause, he looks up at you. “Why is there a knife in your hand?”

      _Oh._ “I heard screaming and I didn't know why. So I came prepared.” You toss the knife on to the nightstand. “I thought you had left and I was here on my own.” You weren't planning on admitting that last part, but... there it is. You feel your face heating up in embarrassment, hoping he doesn't respond poorly to it.

     “You thought I left?” He says, putting up a hand to his chest as if actually offended. “After all we've been through? (Y/N), I thought we had something special! How could you think such a thing about me? I'm hurt. Mortally wounded.”

     “Alright, alright,” you say, laughing and nudging him. “I get it. We're roomies for life. Or at least until you decide you have something better to do.” You stand, face him, and put out your hands for him to take. “Until that day comes, I'm gonna teach you how to get ready in the mornings. A crash course, if you will, in being a regular human being.” You pause. “As regular as _you_ get, anyway.”

 

     He takes your hands and pulls himself up roughly, and in the same motion he pulls you closer. One of his hands supports your back tenderly, and the other hand slips its fingers between yours. There's a certain fire in his eyes that heats you up instantly; this kind of thing is a scene you've read in a cheap drugstore romance novel. People don't do this in real life. And this absolutely doesn't happen to you. Your body is still, flushed up against his, not knowing exactly how to respond to this sudden... affection? He suddenly smiles politely, letting his forehead gently rest on yours.

     “Your sass is irritating me. And yet I still want you to teach me everything you know. I'm ready.” His gentle voice mixed with what he said... You can't help but return the smile.

     “I'm glad to hear you're going to cooperate with me.” You lean forward on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck comfortably. “Today, we start human boot camp. We'll start off with some easy morning tasks like brushing your teeth, making breakfast, getting dressed--”

     “No shower?”

_...I didn't think he'd actually ask about it. The one thing I thought would stay in my mind is the one thing he knows that humans do._

     “I... could show you how to take a shower, if you really want. I mean, honestly, you don't need to shower but--”

    “I don't need to brush my teeth or eat either, but you're making me do _that,_ aren't you?” His voice and eyes turned darkened considerably, yet a subtle, playful smirk still graced his lips. Which were incredibly close to yours, now that you're thinking about it. That aside, you decided that unfortunately he was right. Showering is part of the routine-- and now that he's brought it up, there's no avoiding it.

    You sigh. He rests his hand on your cheek and traces circles with his thumb against your skin. “Fine. We'll do that too. I guess I'll occupy myself by making us breakfast while you're in there--”

   “No,” he retorts. “You're coming in with me. I don't know why you're avoiding this but if you're going to bother me with this, then we're going all the way.”

_Going all the way, he says... oh, boy._

_==_

   Knock Out slips into the bathroom first, you following reluctantly behind. He looks around like a curious puppy, lightly touching this and that, peeking into the shower stall, and entertaining himself with the mirror. The supply closet is to your right, and you grab a couple of towels, shower gel and poufs. On one of the shelves, you discover your cellphone was hiding underneath one of the extra fluffy towels.

   “There you are, you little shit,” you hiss. “I was looking for you all day yesterday and had to deal without you. Urgh, there's a ton of texts... I hope I didn't miss anything too important.” You grab the phone, double tap to activate the screen and swipe to unlock, immediately heading towards your text messages. There were a couple from mom-- the usual motherly nonsense about making sure you're eating enough and wearing proper clothes for the weather. _Thanks for the reminder? I guess?... I really do appreciate it but I'm a fully functioning adult now. Mostly._ There was one from your co-worker asking to cover for him today. _Not happening. Sorry, not sorry._ The final few text messages were sent about fifteen minutes ago from your best friend Wylee, who (according to the consecutive texts she sent in a span of less than 8 minutes) wants to get out of the house and chill today, wants to go shopping, is worried because you're not responding, and is now heading over and will be there in about an hour.

 

     You freeze. You re-read that last one. You re-read that last one again. _Shit._ You turn, about to explain the situation to Knock Out but your breath catches in your throat to find that he'd already been stripped naked with his clothes folded neatly to the side. His back was turned to you, and you could see every single muscle and groove. His body is absolutely gorgeous. You steal a peek at his ass and long, masculine legs, and even _they_ are perfectly toned.

     “Why?!” You yelp out loud.

     The doctor turns his head to glance at you. He doesn't seem bothered at all. “Why what?”

     Your face heats up again, and you turn your attention to the floor tiles nervously. Anywhere is good to look at as long as it's not at the Greek god from space. “I was just... well, my friend is actually coming over really soon. I had no idea she was planning on visiting, but we're pressed for time and have to make this quick.”

      He... actually pouts. “Tell your friend to get fragged,” he grumbles. “I had a personal invitation to be here. Where's her RSVP?”

     “Nowhere,” you sigh, placing your phone on the sink counter. “But she's my best friend and she usually comes over without one. That's normal for us. For her. She even has a spare key to the apartment for just in case emergencies or whatever.”

     He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “Well then, _(Y/N),_ it looks like we're going to have to skip the intimacy and get straight to business.”

     He shrugs non-chalantly, but you nearly choke at how badly that sounded in your head.


	6. Anatomy Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and KO finally get in the shower. Nothing too fancy but KO does get really..... curious.

You clasp your hands together, shutting your eyes with determination.

“Alright, Red,” you say confidently, “let's get this over with.” You cross your arms behind your back and walk towards him slowly. “You are going to face that way, and I'm going to face that way. Take this thing”-- you shove a pouf at him-- “and take this thing”-- you toss the shower gel and he barely catches that-- “and wash yourself. You just scrub until you're clean. Usually you also ponder the mysteries of the universe for a half an hour, but we don't have a half an hour for existential crisis.”

 He tilts his head, looking back and forth between the apparatuses you've forced on him. “Seems easy enough.” He steps fully into the shower and offers his hand to you. “Coming?”

 “...Right.” You still haven't quite gotten out of your clothes yet. And suddenly you get very self-conscious. The thought of totally bailing and letting him figure it out on his own passes you for a moment, but the thought of disappointing him matters a lot more. You check your phone a last time. 20 minutes until Wylee arrives. _Maybe less, if she's speeding again._ The pressure makes your fingers fumble with the bottom of your top. You manage to lift it up but it gets stuck. Of course it does. You struggle and wiggle, only getting more frustrated-- until you feel a pair of hands brushing up against you past the fabric. In a matter of seconds it's off, and the good doctor had your top bunched between his slender fingers. He folds it over once before tossing it aside, then turns back to help you with your shorts.

“Ohhh, _no_ you don't,” You interject as he hooks his fingers between the shorts and your skin. “I can handle this on my own.”

“Why do you insist on doing everything on your own?” He jerks you towards him by the waistband, picking at the button with a thumb and eventually loosening it. He smiles a bit and says quietly, “You've scratched my back; now I'll scratch yours.” He takes care to remove your shorts and stockings, leaving you in your panties and bra. _I should feel embarrassed but I can't help but feel that he doesn't care... I'm okay. This is okay._ “Now, about these... soft, black contraptions guarding the rest of your flesh. How do I get them off?”

 You hesitate for a moment before turning to him and gesturing behind your back to the hooks.

 “I see, now...” he murmurs into your neck as his digits pinch and un-do the hooks. Ahh, that satisfying feeling of an unhooked bra after a long day... The straps slowly slip down your shoulders-- just like Knock Out's fingers tracing down the curves of your waist. His nails send a hot shiver up your back, and your body pulls itself flush against the taller visitor's naked body unexpectedly. He bends slowly as he removes the last article of silky cloth from your body, caressing the shapes and wrinkles and extra all around your legs as he straightens again. “My, my. What a gorgeous make. If you were an automobile, I might be interested in taking something like you for a long drive...” Those hands of his find their way to your stomach as he presses his torso towards you, emitting a small, gratuitous moan from you. You haven't quite been touched like this before, and you had nothing to compare to; you were supposed to be showing him your world, and yet this sudden exploration of your skin and appendages was something even you could not explain to him. With his own hands, however, he was tutoring himself on the subject of you. You could hear the curious hums and confused huffs as his hands moved from your stomach to your chest. He pauses.

 “And what are these, then? What purpose could they possibly serve? Don't they get in the way? I could surgically remove them for you--”

 “Don't.” _Annnd there goes the mood. Goddammit, Red._ “I need those. You just lost your touchy touch privilege.” You brush his hands away, shaking your head. “You're too curious for your own good, you know that?”

 He shifts his weight, smirking and putting his hands on his waist. To say the least, it's different seeing him this way while nude. “I'm curious because _you_ give me reasons to be curious. Everything about you is curious. The outside world has so much I don't quite get about you fleshies, but there's something about you in particular that's caught my interest for the long run.” After running those damned fingers through his hair again, he steps into the shower once more, facing the direction in which you instructed him to. He glances over his shoulder at you one last time. “But of course, that could change in a split second if you don't get in there with me.”

You sigh. “I almost felt flattered for a second there.” You grab your pouf and leap in after, turning the handle and letting the water trickle down at that perfect temperature. “You sure do like to play games.”

He lets out a solid, booming laugh. “Only when I'm winning, doll.”

There it is again. _Doll._ "You won't be winning for long, though,  _doll._ You're on my turf. I'll figure you out soon enough."

"And I you." 

\--

Your eyes are closed. The sound of the shower water plopping against the floor always relaxed you as it washed your stress away. You face the showerhead, keeping your head down and enjoying the sensation of droplets of water tapping and massaging your scalp and back. Warm water rushes down like a waterfall

_Time to get clean._

You open your eyes halfway and glance around for the shower gel bottle. You look toward the edge, where you usually keep it, and it's missing from its spot... Right. You handed it to Knock Out. You turn not even an inch before you feel the soft, exfoliating texture of a pouf and soap scrubbing your backside. A hand reaches from behind and pulls you against a body that feels all too familiar, even when drenched. Knock Out supports your waist as he caresses circles along your back. He's gentler than you thought he'd be. He gets a bit lower right above your bottom. A sudden twinge of anxiousness knots in your stomach, but there's something about the way he holds you that keeps you from pulling away. It's not tight at all. You feel safe and comfortable. Even the thoughts of showering with a strange being melt away, just as you do at his touch. He finishes cleaning all of your backside, including the rear, and pulls you as close as possible until you can feel his sex brushing up against you.

_...UM? Holy shit, that's totally a dick. Why does he need that?....Was that even there before? I didn't check... I was trying not to look..._

"Is there something wrong, _mon cherie_? You're tugging away from me. I'm not being rough with you, am I?"

"...N-no," you manage to sputter after hearing his low growl of a voice in your ear. He had rested his chin on your shoulder as his hands crept around you and held you close like a lover. That wasn't helping at all. "I've never showered with another person before. This is generally a solo activity and having you wash me is--"

"Bad? Strange?"

"Different."

"Mm..."

"...I don't dare ask what's on your mind."

"Then I'll keep buffing you." You feel him grin against your neck as he begins to scrub your stomach. Your back slightly arches forward, pressing into his touch. _More...more of this..._ Surprisingly, and not a moment too soon, you get your wish; one of his hands finds its way to one of your breasts as the other trails the sponge down to your nether region. _Shit. Do I want him to stop? He doesn't really understand what he's doing... how he's making me feel. He's a robot; he couldn't possibly understand how hot this is._ More gentle strokes meet your underside as he begins to wash you there. Small moans occasionally dribble out of your mouth against your will. He begins to move down your thighs, leaving you almost on edge, wanting more of that special feeling. You think about it for a moment. Then you grab his hand. And lead it back. 

"Buff me more there," you coo quietly, lust heavily coating the tone of your voice. This is the first time you've ever heard this voice come out of your mouth; but there's a first time for everything, as you've recently come to find. "This needs... the most attention."

"I would but... aren't we running a little low on time?"

"Why do you say-- WYLEE. FUCK--" You snag the pouf away from him and quickly go over the rest of your body with it. You decide to take care of your hair later; making sure Wylee didn't barge in and see this random, handsome naked guy feeling you up. There was no way to explain it. As understanding and weird as Wylee is, there's no excuse for a evil robot doctor from space who's actually a car maybe sometimes, though right now he's a human because of science and honestly you still don't believe it either. "Yo, we gotta go. We gotta actually go. I gotta hide you or like get you outta here but you _cannot_ be here when she shows up."

He folds his arms, looking down at you with amused, half-lidded eyes and a crooked smirk. "Why? Are you trying to keep me your own dirty little secret?"

You had already turned the water off, stepped out and dried off. You glance back at him with a less amused expression. "If I say 'yes', would you hurry up and get out of there so I can lie to my friend about your existence as a whole?"

He groans and steps out, stealing the towel from off your body, twisting it up and smacking your rear with it playfully.

"What the hell was that for?!" You snatch it back, beating him with it ruthlessly.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs, holding back a smile. "Because I think we've started playing a new game and I wanted a head start."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a proper sex scene... but I decided against it! I'll do it really soon though; I actually wrote a sex scene before all this but I haven't had a proper place to put it in. It'll get there though, I promise. :V
> 
> ....OH LMAO extra note!! I've never actually taken a shower-- I'm a bath girl tbh -- so excuse me if something doesn't make sense. I actually had to go to eHow and look up how to shower so I could... get an idea....lol im lame bye


	7. TBH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wylee's here. Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of Knock Out in this chap chap. Wanted to spend time introducing Wylee. Shenanigans are to ensue shortly, and then sexy times!

“Check the time for me. I need to dry my hair really quick.”

Knock Out thoroughly dried off his hands before reaching over and handling your phone.

“It's the big, round button on the back,” you say patiently after not hearing the soft click of your homescreen being swiped away.

“I knew that... and it's 9:46 AM. What is this yellow-haired creature and the smaller, white-haired drooling creature next to you in this photo?”

“That's Wylee and her dog Hewie. We had a stranger take that of us when we went road tripping two summers ago. We visited a ton different places and saw so many cool things together in this sorta-cheap rental car. It was no _you_ but it fit us three perfectly. Wy's already been around the country-- around the world even. But she wanted to do it again with me, even if we didn't get to Florida.” You tuck your hair into a high ponytail and begin to brush gently, starting from the tips. “Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to let her know about you and then we can all go driving together. Hell, I'll even let you drive! If there's one thing she and Hewie love, it's cars that can really set a flaming trail on the road.”

“Mm, so she shares my need for speed? I think we'll get along just nicely.” He scoffs. “That is, if you get over this irrational fear of her glitching out because of me.”

It isn't really a fear. It's more like a precautionary measure. Wylee has a gift-- the gift of gab. As much as you love your long time chum, there's no telling how well she can keep a secret down like this. She's the excitable sort, the kind that could accidentally spill the beans at any moment, no matter the context. She means well but... it's just safer to ease her into this. _Or lie. Lying is good._

The two of you escape to the bedroom before Knock Out pauses. “Oh, yes. (Y/N). It totally slipped my mind while you were yammering about your past escapades with your friend.”

“Hm?”

“You received a text about five minutes ago from human Wylee. Her text short-hand took some vigorous decoding, but what I gathered from it was that her car is out front, but she doesn't have the key to the building with her.” The phone vibrates twice. He reads, and his eyes widen for a moment. “Uhh, she seems angry.”

“She doesn't like waiting,” you say, slipping on underwear, an oversized shirt and some hightops. “Five minutes is way too long for her, and I still haven't--” You looked him up and down. “You're still in the nude. I don't... know if I have anything to fit you. And then there's nowhere for you to hide... unless I shove you under the bed! Yes. Brilliant. Under you go.”

You motion for him to magically fit underneath the bed, as big as he is. He looks at you dead in the eye. “No. Just no.” He turns you toward the door and pushes you forward. “You go handle that little pest of yours and I'll handle the hiding part.”

“Oh? Where at?”

“Just go!”

You groan and head toward the front to grab your keys off the cocktail table, then promptly head out. You skip three or four stairs at a time trying to get down them at record speed, and it would've been a cool landing if you hadn't tripped on a shoelace and landed straight on your ass at the bottom. Nice going. You sit up, only slightly dazed, and see out the double doors. Wylee was crouched down with that cute smirk of hers and her hands against the door glass.

“Ooh, black panties today? What, you got a cute boy over or something?”

“N-no!” You scramble to your feet and tug your shirt down. “Nobody's here! Just me! Haven't had any sort of company since you were here a while back so, yeah! Haha! A-anyway...” You open both sets of doors, and she walks past you with a childish bounce in her step. As she passes, you notice a certain sweet scent reminiscent to a bakery shop filled with fresh, hot goodies. _She always smells and looks like an innocent, delicious pastry. I think I'm the only who knows she's just a cute jelly donut actually filled with hot sauce._

She turns on a dime and points a manicured finger at you with her other hand hidden behind her back. “You, _li'l missy_ , have not been returning my texts or calls today. I'm surprised you even came down to greet me, t-b-h. What have you been doing all day? Sleeping, like usual?”

“S-sorry... actually, I really have been sleeping until about an hour ago. I'm still kind of wrecked from the crazy stuff that happened yesterday.”

“Oh?” She mews, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes. “What kind of stuff? I know you ended up going to the party...Yo! You totally brought a guy home! High five!” She reaches forward for you to high five you, but you grab her dumb, cute fingers and put them back down by her side.

“No, Wy. No.” _I totally did._ “I did meet someone but they were kind of strange. Like... out of this world.”

“Ah! I wanna hear about it! Let's go up to the house and I'll make tea and cookies! Or do you want hot chocolate and grilled cheese? Like old times?”

She goes on and on about food, and you smile about how long you two have known each other. It's just a shame you have to worry about... _Knock Out._

“Ehh, wouldn't you rather just... maybe sit outside and enjoy the weather? It's beautiful out, today! Y-yeah, let's take a walk and eat breakfast at that little cafe...around the...”

Wylee stared at you with a slightly agape face and furrowed brows. “(N/N), my secret senses are tingling. Like, yo.” A smirk graced her pink, glossy lips as she stroked her chin curiously. “I didn't come in just so I had to go back out, (N/N)! I want to hang out upstairs with you, no matter what you're hiding, betch!” With that, she turned sharply and made haste up the stairs in her black Oxford heels, her pompom beanie bouncing on top of her long, blonde and blue hair.

“Get back here, you fucking donut with heels!” You haul ass after her, deciding against skipping stairs this time. She makes it to the door before you and starts sifting through your keychain.

“H-how did you get my keys?”

“I'm cute and a talented pick-pocket! Don't underestimate me, doll!” She giggles and fits the right key into the door before throwing the door open. _Fuck! Even_ she _calls me doll!_ You shake it off, and head in after her, frantically looking about for any traces of Knock Out. Wylee slowly lurks about, a sly smile on her face as she carefully examines the room. You stay frozen by the door way, glancing at the archway that leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The place is dead silent besides Wylee's casual humming. She turns papers over, looks underneath the table, plays with light switches and glances back at you skeptically before slithering into the kitchen.

“Mm-hm...” She runs a finger over the countertop as she continues snooping around for... whatever.

“Don't you mm-hm my home, jackass. I'm not hiding anything. Swear.”

“Oh, _swear_ do you? Then you won't mind if I go in the back and check for dead bodies, right?” She clicks her tongue and winks at you behind the kitchen window. But... you must have had a real weird look on your face in that awkward three seconds of silence following that question, because her face absolutely drops in horror. “You're a fucking _murderer_ , kid?! What the _fuck_?!”

“What?! No!” But of course she doesn't believe you; she hops right over the counter and darts towards your bedroom.

“Where's the body, dweeb? Where's the corpse? I'm gonna fucking cry, I can't believe you've murdered--”

“I didn't murder anyone, you nerd,” you say from the doorway, watching her carefully and observing the room. Actually, looking around, the place looks a lot neater than when you were here earlier. Bed's made, clothes in their proper places, butcher knife neatly placed on the nightstand.

Wylee spots the knife. She glances up at you. Then back to the knife.

“...Bro,” she whispers, picking it up and pointing it at you with a shaking hand.

“Wylee, you soggy walnut, I'm not a murderer. Honestly, do you really think I have enough energy to go out and kill a guy? That's _work_ , okay. Now put it down where it was. Or put it back in the kitchen, even better.” You lean against the doorway and glance back at the bathroom. _Is he in there then...?_

“Well, then why did you bring a knife in here?”

“Because I thought I heard a noise but it was just--” Whoop. Nope. Not mentioning Knock Out. “--th-the television. There was a horror movie playing and it spooked me.”

She squints her eyes at you. “You don't watch TV. And you hate horror movies.”

“I was bored. Came home early from the party and decided it was better than doing nothing. Then this morning I was in the kitchen about to make hot chocolate and I heard a noise and grabbed the knife and voila. There ya go.” _Yup. Lying is good._

Wylee's posture relaxes, and she sets the knife aside. “Hm! Fine.”

“Yeah, man.” You let out a sigh and feel your face cool down a bit. She should be okay. For now. “So, let's have breakfast together. No more drama, girlfriend.”

–

The two of you sit on the floor in the living room, chatting and catching up over a bowl of cereal and juice. As hectic as her visit has been so far, it's nice seeing her revert back to her more cute and big sister-like charm. It was always an an adventure having her over. There was no telling what crazy mood she was in; but that was something you liked about her. In a town where every day is nearly the same, her you looked forward to her unpredictable temperament. It spiced things up. The only downside to being friends with her is that she was kind of gorgeous and made you feel like a wet potato standing next to her. She tells you you're the cutest button, but she's honestly a tasteful amount of shimmering sequins on a princess's ball gown. What the hell, man.

You finish your bowl before she does, and hear car honking out the window that overlooks the curb.

Wylee looks up from her bowl and tilts her head. “You expecting more company, doll?”

“Uh, no?” You get up, taking your bowl to the kitchen then looking out the window. At the purr of an engine, a sleek, red sports car pulls up in front and honks twice more. The engine revs loudly as the wheels threaten to speed off. “Huh. So that's where he went.” You mutter. “I keep forgetting it's just a tangible hologram, and _that's_ him out _there_. Smart move, doctor.”

“Who are you talking to?” Wylee was suddenly directly behind you, scaring the living shite out of you.

“Oh! Uh, no one, really; I was just kind of thinking out loud.”

She snuggles beside you and looks down at the car. “Woah!” She puts her hands up to the glass and hops in place excitedly like a child. “Is that a friend of yours? Please tell me you know the person that owns that gorgeous hunk of metal down there!”

There really isn't any way out of this. You could say no but that could honestly prove to be more trouble in the future. So you slowly nod, shutting your eyes and groaning.

She squees and grabs you by the arm. “Ohhhh, you gotta introduce me. Please? Oh, pleasie please?”

 “Do I really have a choice?”

“Nope!” She pulls you out of the room and grabs the keys again as she ushers the both of you back out of the apartment. “I wanna see just what awaits me in this mysterious red car!”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “Me too.”

 

 


	8. Drag Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wylee threatens Knock Out and Reader Insert gets... dragged along. Ayyyy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALS ARE DONE AND I AM A FREE BIRB
> 
> Anyways. I've made it a personal goal to make each chapter at least 2000 words. For me, it's a good goal. It possibly is kind of short but I can only do so much to a chapter before I feel like passing out. I am but a weak potato.
> 
> This was really fun to write by the way. It was supposed to go a different route, but then I realized that Knock Out is actually a two seater?? So pff here ya go-- a race to the death instead of fluffy sight-seeing filler. Hohoho.

The two of you stood just outside of your apartment doors, Wylee squeezing your hand and leaning forward, observing the car with wide eyes. She pulls you forward with a strong grip, saying 'C'mon, c'mon!” as you hesitate.

“What are you waiting for?” She says, turning to you. So many thoughts run through your head as you glance from Wylee to the car. You start to wish that you knew what Knock Out's plan was so you could play along, but you could barely keep up with him when you _did_ know what was on his mind. You've only known each other for a few hours, and the only things you could figure out about him was that he was impulsive, independent, and unfortunately very attractive no matter what form he was in. Wylee searches your eyes for an answer, getting more and more impatient. “(Y/N), what's the matter? Are you feeling alright, _yeppeo_?”

“I'm...” You sigh. You place your hands on her shoulders. “I'm okay. But I have to let you know something about this...situation.” She tilts her head. “I know some things in this world are a little unbelievable, but recently I've discovered that it's okay to be _open-minded_.” She tilts her head further. “And to not, y'know, totally freak out?”

She frowns for a split second. “Alright?”

“...Yeah.” This is harder than you think. Dropping hints, as it turns out, is not your forte. You try thinking of something else to say to ease her into it when you spot something out of the corner of your eye. Your attention subtly turns to the same young gentlemen you met yesterday-- except today he's wearing what looks like high-end street fashion in lieu of the expensive-looking suit he wore at the party. He was leaned up against the passenger side, a calm yet smug look on his face as he watched you panic from afar. “Knock Out,” you growl, grimacing.

His smile grows crookedly as he straightens and begins to walk, approaching the two of you with his hands shoved into his pockets. Wylees expression brightens as he gets closer. He stops only a few inches away, and his eyes slowly examine your friend before flickering over to you with a gentle, yet somehow grossly sarcastic smile. He leans forward so his eyes just meet yours.

“Well,” he purrs, “what a sight for sore eyes. And she has a friend!” He turns his attention to her, his smile warm and inviting suddenly. He takes her hand and gives it a small peck on the back, his eyes flickering up at her in amusement as she squeals in utter enjoyment. “What are you called then, hon?”

You roll your eyes as Wylee bats hers wildly. She gives her name cheerfully, practically swooning, and moves a little closer. “So, uh-- how do you know (Y/N) anyway?”

“I met her at a tacky house party,” he begins, slipping an arm smoothly around your shoulder. You glare at his hand dangling near the base of your neck. “She had her eyes on me from the moment we merely glanced at each other from across the room. Couldn't keep her hands off of me the entire time. Of course, I don't blame her--” he leans his head against yours innocently, “the other bachelors attending the event couldn't even stand close to me. I understand that my style caught her eye immediately. She has good taste, you know.”

“She gets it from me,” Wylee says, winking at you.

You smile sarcastically, ducking away from Knock Out's arm. “Yeah, good taste. What a catch.”

“Enough chit-chat,” he announces, turning away elegantly and starting towards the sleek sports car waiting at the curb. “I'm ready to paint the town a sexy shade of red.”

“Yes!” Wylee squeals, grabbing your hand yet again. “I like the way he thinks! We're all going to get along just fine!”

“Mm, one slight thing though. You've got your own car, yes?” He glances back at her, his expression unreadable.

She tilts her head. “Yes?”

He heads towards his car again, making a lazy waving motion with his hand. “Good. Because I'm a two seater.... kind of guy. And (Y/N) is already hitching a ride with me.”

“Aww! What the heck!” Wylee groaned. She turns and smiles at you anyway, shrugging her shoulders and winking. “It seems he's called dibs on you. Too bad-- he's just my type!”

You furrow your brow. “And what type is that?”

“Tall. Mysterious. Well-dressed. Drives an expensive-looking, fast car. The works.”

“Of course,” you sigh with a small smile. Knock Out is just about to duck into the car, but you don't even know where you're all headed off to. With all the travelling he must have done before you meeting him, he must be keen to a ton of amazing places and sites.

As if reading your mind, he calls out, “We're heading out of town to go to a seaside carnival. It's supposed to be positively gorgeous this time of year, and by the time we get there it'll be evening. Just in time for the carnival lights to flicker on and add that sort of whimsical, romantic aura to the whole scene.” His smile turns into something soft and thoughtful. But then he tilts his head, his red eys glaring straight at you. “We should make it a date, hm?”

Wylee laughs as you cough awkwardly. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment, but you look back up at him and fold your arms. “Maybe next time, Casa Nova. Wylee's here. Remember? Wouldn't wanna third wheel her.”

“Oh, nonsense,” he says, flashing a bright white grin. “She can be my date as well! There's enough of me to go around. What kind of gentlemen would I be if I can please both of you at the same time?” He props up against the roof of the car with a wicked smirk, leaning against folded arms and watching you flip him off from a distance as Wylee squeals happily.

“A three-way date it is!,” She exclaims. “I don't care if I'm third wheeling this shit-- I'm going where he's going!” She darts towards her car and opens the driver's side door.

“Hopefully you'll be able to keep up with me. I'm warning you: I speed.”

She swivels her neck, looking him up and down. “I _am_ speed. I'd wreck you, pretty boy!”

His eyes widen, and you slip into his car on the passenger's side, hoping they don't start fighting in the middle of the street. He suddenly slams the door closed, startling you. You watch him with a palpitating heart as he walks slowly towards the small young lady with a sarcastically sweet smile plastered on her face. “Is that challenge, short stack?

Her smile grows, and she steps closer. He leans forward to look her directly in the eye, but she doesn't seem threatened in the slightest. “Not so much a challenge as it is a fact, princess.” She cocks her head. “And I'll prove it to you.”

You slink in your seat. They're about to drag race. Oh no. No no no. You step out again, running around the front of the car and grabbing Knock Out's hand. He looks down at you, but doesn't pull away from you. “What?”

“U-uh... You guys aren't thinking about racing are you?”

“Of course we are, doll face,” he growls, his glance snapping back towards his pretty, pink rival. Wylee bats her thick falsies and twirls a curl around one of her fingers innocently. “And I'm going to run that tin can right off the road if I have to.”

Annnd here comes the evil Decepticon side of him. 

You were wondering what it was really like to see that side, but this wasn't the best time for sight seeing. You turn him towards you and pull him down to your level. “Listen,” you whisper calmly, trying not to raise any suspicion, “I know that putting peoples' lives in danger is kind of your thing but can you, like, _not_? Wylee talks shit all the time-- that doesnt mean you have to respond! Be the bigger bot. You know you're the speediest thing around, so why worry about it?”

 You had really hoped your words got through to him, but it didn't look like he was listening. His eyes were focused on you, but that slightly parted mouth said _I don't really care_. You sigh, putting your hands on either side of his face as sweetly as you could. Being this close brought you back to a few hours ago. You had been even closer than this, naked with him in the shower. Back then he was being totally gentle. What happened? He isn't really that angry is he? His own expression softens as he searches your eyes for something more.

“I worry about it because I'm a car. I like proving myself. I like drag racing. I like getting my way even if it hurts others, unfortunately for you. True, I have softened up a bit in the time I've been here, but I'm still a Decepticon at heart.” His eyes glance over to the silver insignia pressed onto his rear. The insignia that holds a lot of history. The insignia that means, in essence, “bad guy”. A moment of silence passes before his solemn expression melts. He leans forward, touching your forehead with his. “Are you worried about me? Is that it?”

“I am,” you say sternly.

He rolls his eyes before kissing your lips and turning his head back slightly towards Wylee. “Well then,” he says normally, his voice loud and clear, “you'll just have to get over it, won't you? Your concern is sweet--” he runs a hand through his thick hair before getting into the vehicle once more “-- but victory is sweeter!”

“In your dreams!” Wylee shouts before getting into her sleek convertible and slamming the door closed.

You stand there, still trying to comprehend the fact that you've just been kissed. The noise of those two swearing at each other coupled with the roaring of their engines sounded miles and miles away compared to the fast paced thumping sound of your heart, which felt like it was trying to make a break for it right through your throat. You try pushing down the feeling. Knock Out isn't good for you. He's a villain when it comes down to it. But just what kind of villain kisses like _that?_ You feel hot. Goosebumps cover your arms. Your knees are practically knocking together. This is not the kind of person you are, and yet it feels like you might need a medic. And not _him_.

 “Babe... Dollface!” You snap out of that daze and turn your attention towards the red-headed driver, who's impatiently tapping his fingers on the door. “Get in the car, loser. We're going drag racing.” He looks away for a split second before returning his regards to you. “I'll try my hardest not to hurt anyone. But what happens happens. Got it?”

It was a start. Kind of. You nod hesitantly before slipping into the car as well. Knock Out looks so ready to go. Like he's done this a million times, and will do it a million more. Wylee drives up next to you, and rolls down the window.

“So what's the finish line? Where we goin'?”

“Let's go straight to the carnival. I'll have (Y/N) send you coordinates and checkpoints through her phone and you can plug that into your GPS. If you can even handle doing that.”

She pouts before breaking into a playful laughter. Good thing she has thick skin, you think. Knock Out gives you the directions, and the both of you figure out some good checkpoints, which include mostly a couple of gas stations since the finish line is so far away. You send them over to Wylee, and she gives a big thumbs up when she's all set.

“(Y/N), you can do us the honor of being our sexy flag girl.”

You look over at him. “Uh-huh. Alright, you two-- ready?”

The two of them look over at you, and all you can see are two huge smiles of adrenaline and anticipation. There was something about seeing them this way that made you excited for this race as well. You smile right back at them, raising your hand out the window.

  
  


Your hand comes down. “Go!”


	9. You Spin Me Right Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carnival, carnival! Come round boys and girls, as Reader Insert and Knock Out get a little intimate at the carnival! :3c

The two cars make ear-shattering screeching noises as they pull off down the road, gaining speed as they race along the city streets. Buildings and people zoom by as blurry colors blending together. The desert road approaches fast, and for a split second you think back to the first time Knock Out revealed his real self to you. The way he shattered all of your expectations in less than fifteen seconds. He was huge, towering over you with his strange mechanical body. He was sharp and curvy and bold and subtle. A gentleman and a villain. A prissy boy and a drag racer.

The wind howls as it rushes past your face, and the ride feels smooth. The sky reminded you of an oil painting-- reds and oranges and pinks melting together with thin clouds making softy, bumpy textures on the canvas. If it weren't for all the excitement of the race, you very well could have fallen asleep.

“Approaching the last pit stop before our destination,” Knock Out stated in a very official-sounding voice. The two of you are just about to pull into the station first until Wylee makes a sharp curve in front of the car and steals the first pump.

She swings open the door and hops it, pumping a fist in the air. “That's two out of four checkpoints! I'll beat you to the carnival and win the _whole_ thing!”

Knock Out parks at the next pump, and elegantly exits the car, brushing himself off. “I'll admit-- you're very, very skilled behind the wheel. Unfortunately, I don't plan on letting you win this last stretch. (Y/N) and I will probably have enjoyed a game or two before you arrive.” He stalks towards her and bends down to her eye level. “I'm going to leave you in the dust. Where you belong.”

You also get out of the car, your face heating up. You glance back and forth between them, feeling the tension thicken the air.

“And you, Knock Out,” she says, that sweet smile of hers never leaving her face, “are going to be crushed into scrap metal before you get there.”

His expression drops. Not good. You step in between them with a peppy smile and nervous eyes. “Hey you two! It's all just a fun competition! We're all going to the same place so let's try not to brutally destroy each other before we can have some real fun tonight. Right?” Your eyes flicker up at Knock Out, as your words are mainly directed at him. He glares at you before rolling his eyes, and his grin returns.

“Of course.” He scruffs up Wylee's hair before straightening and taking a deep breath. “We're going on a date. All three of us. This race is simply foreplay.”

You cough.

Wylee shakes her head with a mischievous smile. “Your definition of foreplay is weird. I can ony imagine what you're like in bed.”

You choke.

“I'm sure you'd like to know, wouldn't you? You and (Y/N).” He grabs you by the neck with a strong and pulls you to his side. “I don't blame either of you. Shall we _menage a trois_?”

You die a little on the inside. _This_ bitch. You shove him aside, brushing yourself off. “Ugh. Don't bring me into this. I thought we were in the middle of a race. Not a brothel. I'll walk to the carnival myself if you two keep flirting.”

“Right! Gotta fill up my car before we do this last lap.” Wylee walks back to her pump. “And don't you cheat and pull off before I'm done again.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Knock Out purrs innocently.

You glance at your ride for a moment, then look back up at him. “How come you haven't filled up your tank yet? We've stopped at three different gas stops and you haven't refilled once.”

He folds his arms, furrowing his brow as he looks down at you. “I didn't tell you yet? I don't use your nasty earth fuel. I run on energon. It's like our version of blood. There are actually quite a few energon mines scattered about your planet but they're a bit far apart and hard to pin down if you don't have the right equipment.”

“You have enough?”

“More than enough, sweetheart. As much as I hate heavy physical work, I stocked up on as much energon as I could before I eloped.”

“Right. You ran away from home.”

“Huh. _Home._ ” He looks away, not saying anything else.

You take him in for a moment, feeling a bit sorry for him. You place a gentle hand on his back as comfort, and you feel him press back into your touch. You couldn't even begin to imagine being so far away from home. Yes, moving out of the parents' house was tough, but at least you weren't galaxies away. You knew, mostly, how things worked and how to get by. Knock Out is a foreign force of mechanical nature, nowhere near his comfort zone. Obviously he's made some adjustments and enjoys being here but... for how much longer? Doesn't he have someone to get back to? Won't he get tired after all this culture shock?

“Don't think so hard, (Y/N),” he taunts, still not facing you. You know he's got a disgusting smile on his face. “All that work your putting on your brain might tire you out before we can get naughty tonight.”

“The only naughty thing we're doing tonight is eating a ton of delicious carnival food so late,” you reply, knocking a fist playfully into his back. “I've actually never been to a carnival myself. I see them on TV a lot, but never bothered to really go to one.”

He glances back at you, touching the tips of his fingers together politely. “Then I'm doing you a favor. You're welcome.”

  
“I'm ready to go, nerd babies!”The sound of Wylee slamming her door closed behind her interrupts your conversation. You and Knock Out exchange a look before hopping back into the car. Moments later, the two racers are stationed side by side at the exit of the gas station. You countdown, and both cars are racing towards the gorgeous sunset at top speed. The carnival was only fifteen minutes away now.

–

The carnival was much more elegant and extravagant than you could ever imagine. There were white-and-red striped tents of all shapes and sizes strewn about the wide field, little flags perched atop each one. Food vendors were sprinkled among the cobblestone paths, long lines queueing up at almost all of them: the cotton candy seller, the hot dog stand... ice cream, crepes, and anything inbetween. The warm scents wafted throughout the air and made their way to you, making your mouth water at the thought of trying it all.

You look further down the way, and you see a gigantic ferris wheel adorned with white fairy lights that would hypnotize any onlooker as it spun in a slow, smooth circle. You really hope that you get a chance to ride it.

Knockout stands between you and Wylee, putting an arm around each of you. “Well, ladies, what did I tell you? Isn't it absolutely breathtaking?”

“Don't change the subject. I totally won,” Wylee says, lifting his arm off and already marching ahead. “I'm taking a victory lap! To the little girls room, that is. You two can go ahead-- I'll catch up with you later, pinkie swear!” She lifted a pinkie and pranced off in search for a nearby restroom, leaving you and your “date” alone.

You feel his face next to yours, and he mutters, “I let her win. You know that don't you?”

“Uh-huh,” you say, attempting to hide a sly smile. You link arms with him, getting a bit closer, then look up at him with your best flirty eyes. “Take me to the ferris wheel, please? Or maybe you could let me try some cotton candy first.”

“Ah, (Y/N), you're such a carnival virgin. Don't you worry your pretty little human head. I'll guide you through your first time.” He tightens his grip on you, grinning down at you with a sharp-toothed grin. “But I will not be _gentle_ with you.” His words shoot through you as he pulls you through the crowd of people, pushing them aside and scowling whenever said something about it. The moon shone right behind the ferris wheel. The night sky is also sprinkled with sparkling, vanilla stars. You wonder if maybe one of them was his home. The murmur of the people around you, the squeals of the children, the ringing bells of the carnival games... Even though this experience is something new, you were among your own. Knock Out is a fish out of water, no matter how convincing his disguise is. You know what it's like to feel alone, even surrounded by friends and family. Or just people. It sucks. You don't notice that he's already taken up a huge stick of cotton candy for the two of you to share. “Bon appetit,” he says, plucking out a soft piece and holding it up to your mouth.

You hesitate, startled by how sweet that small chunk smells. You open up a bit, and he places it onto your tongue. Sugar and fluff melts immediately, to your surprise, and it tastes even sweeter than it smells! “Thats pretty tasty!”

“Mmhm,” he says with his mouth full as well. He hands it to you and looks around. “I would take you to the ferris wheel, but maybe you'll have better luck at one of these games. No matter what tactics I use, I can't seem to win. And I don't like not winning.”

“I know, babe. I know.”

The two of you approach a classic-- the test your strength game. The carnival barker hands you a mallet and explains that if you can hit the plank hard enough to get the block to ring the bell, you could win a nice prize.

“A nice prize would be you paying my rent for this month,” you say, positioning yourself in front of the plank.

“You better win, (Y/N),” Knock Out says, folding his arms, “we can't both go home losers.”

“Thanks for the motivation, Red.” You hoist the heavy hammer over head, licking your lips once, and slam it down hard on the plank. The block flew up the board quickly, shocking even the game host. He watched it with wide eyes, then settle calmly again when the bell didn't ring.

“Sorry, miss. Maybe you'll have better luck next time,” he said, shrugging sarcastically.

“Uh-huh. Next time maybe the game won't be rigged, too. It's nice to dream, isn't it?” You turn sharply, tugging on your date's hand. “We're going on the wheel. At least you can't lose at sitting down.”

  
  


You and Knock Out stood side by side in line, holding hands, as the wheel slowed down on its last spin. The last couple made its way out, and the two of you entered. Knock Out pulled the bar down and curled his arm around you before sighing contently. “I've actually never been on one myself.”

You brow furrows. “Hm?”

You feel his fingers gently run through your hair, massaging your scalp occasionally. It feels nice. “Ferris wheel. Never bothered to get on it. Seemed like a two-person kind of deal.”

“I kind of figured you might have brought another girl here before. Since you're such a carnival hoe.”

He huffs. “I've always come here alone. I'm attracted to shiny and beauiful things. You fit at least one of those criteria.”

“Well, I didn't have time to blot my face. I can't help it if I'm a little shiny.”

“Can't help it if you're a little dumb either, huh?”

You nudge each other playfully, making more small talk before everyone settles in. The voice on the loud speaker said something uintelligible before the ride took off.

The two of you are mostly quiet, until he starts asking about... everything. He wants to know about your family, where you're originally from, what kind of foods you like, what kind of job you have... He's so curious. It would be cute if he weren't working for someone who wants humans as slaves pretty much. Otherwise, adorable. As you speak, his eyes lock on to you, genuinely. They often dart down to your lips as you speak. You hadn't noticed that he had gotten so close as you talked about yourself. Even sitting down he was taller than you. You paused for a breif moment, wondering if he was okay. Before you could ask, he leans down and presses his lips against yours.

  
_Huh._

  
It feels strange. Warm, but strange. Something lovely shudders throughout your body, pushing you to kiss him harder. Your hands wrap gently around his neck as your thumbs traced his jaw line. His finger makes small strokes down your neck. A subtle smell of cologne and sugar wafts from his body. Everything around you is silent, save for your breaths which are in perfect sync. This moment shifts your thoughts. He is not a robot. Or an alien. Or a human. He isn't good or bad.

  
He is yours. He is happy to be yours. You are enough for him, and that's all you could really ask for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Huh. PFFF ok ok uhhh yeah man. Kissing's cool. Never been kissed but that's how I would want it. Maybe not high up in the air but I would def want it with someone who cares. That someone would have to be a giant robot from outer space, but I gotta have some kind of standards, right?
> 
> I guess I should also apologize for being a shitty updater. I do hit rough patches in life and it happens a lot more often than I'd like. But I'd also rather not write when I'm in a rough patch because then... well the content isn't as great. As you could imagine. But here is the next chapter! I do have some more things in mind for the next chapter so, uh. Prepare yourselves. Have an extra pair of undies available. *side-eyes emoji*


	10. Home is Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewd.

The two of you take a leisurely stroll after exiting the ride, wandering aimlessly and weaving between the crowd. He holds you by the neck protectively, his thumb massaging the base of your neck. A content sigh escapes your lips as you walk side by side with him, enjoying the soft chatter and carnival sounds surrounding you. Neither of you speak-- but conversation is not necessary now. The mutual feeling of attraction speaks volumes between the two of you. The kiss you shared moments ago was a long, comfortable chat. Your thoughts quickly return to that memory... You look up at him, remembering fondly how warm he felt. His pretty facial features glow lightly as the moon shines down. His eyes casually observe the environment, his blinks slow and sleepy. His lips were pressed together in a seemingly neutral and unreadable state, though you could swear the edges were tilted up the least bit in a subtle smile. You've never seen him so calm; he's not flirting with anyone, he's not threatening lives or staring at himself in the rearview mirror-- he's in the moment. He's with you and he's happy. At least you hope so. 

A yawn suddenly forces itself out of your body, your arms stretching up and out. Knock Out takes the opportunity to wrap his hands around your waist and pull you in, flush against his body. You rest your own hands on his biceps, taking an important note that his arms are just as muscular and tight as they look. “Are you ready to return home, little one?” He asks.

You lean your weight on him, smiling. _Little one. Only you could get away with that._ “I think so. I had so much fun tonight but I'm starting to feel really tired after all that. You may have to carry my corpse to the car.”

“Don't think I won't,” he responds confidently. “We can return another time to enjoy every inch of this place like I wanted. Tonight did take a certain unexpected turn.” His eyes glance off to the side as he stifles a smile. “Though I do find it quite odd that we didn't run into your friend anywhere.”

You peer around, not moving away from his body. I wonder where she went off to. Didn't she say she was going to meet up with us later? Knowing her, she might have run into an old boyfriend... or a new one. Either way, you knew she was just fine. Trouble seems to find her wherever she is, but knowing how she handles herself you aren't worried at all. You decide to call her later, maybe when you get home.

–

You start to drift off in the passenger's seat, no longer phased by the emptiness of the seat next to you. Knock Out makes sure the drive home is fast, yet safe, his seatbelt pressing against your body, protecting you like precious cargo. You hear him quietly humming along with the radio, the lights of his dashboard pulsating with the rhythm of the light pop music playing from the speakers. The air conditioner blows cool air at your skin, a refreshing breeze after playing in the Nevada night heat. The passing streetlights remind you of your first drive with Knock Out... he was so reckless in that moment. Wild and dangerous, and quite frankly not giving a damn. You were so fucking scared going that fast; your heart pounding, threatening to burst. That feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next, of not knowing how safe you were with him... It's still there now actually, but it's not as strong as before. You're adjusting to him, just as he is to this world and being with you.

He's not a threat, just kind of a big jerk sometimes.

“Home, sweet home,” he suddenly announces, jolting you fully awake. “That liquid goop is pooling out of your mouth again, (Y/N). As cute as it is, you need to eliminate it before it gets all over my leather seats.”  
You drowsily bring up your arm to your mouth and swipe away the drool like you were asked. “Can't we just sit out here? I'm too tired to move anywhere. It's so comfy.” 

You hear him sigh, then a small chuckle. The two of you sit for a while longer-- though you're not sure by how much. It feels like the longest time as the two of you sit quietly, his engine still purring and the lights turned off. The only source of light comes from the street lamps, dimly lining the road. 

The seatbelt suddenly unclasps from around you after what seemed like an eternity. “Wake up," he orders firmly. "You need to sleep in your bed.” You groan in response, not moving a muscle. “Wake. Up.” He revs up loudly and opens the car door. “Do as I say or you'll be in big trouble, missy.”

You flip him off.

“Huh. Interesting. And I was considering carrying you in. I guess no more consideration is needed.” The car powers off and the door slams shut. “You can just stay in here and see how comfy I am now.”

“Ugh, come on.”

“No, you come on.”

“Were you really going to carry me in?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“...Carry me in, then. If you can even lift me, pretty boy.”

He sighs again, muttering something that sounded like a general complaint. His physical hologram phased just outside of your door. He opens it, politely offering his hand to you. You gently take it, pulling yourself up to him. He jerks your body towards him, his other hand snaking around your waist and his hold on you tightening significantly. If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now, and it feels like you're about to tango the way he's holding you. You feel his nails pressing into your back, and his chin tilts up as he peers down at you with clenched teeth and furrowed brows. “You really should learn to say please and thank you, especially when someone is offering to do something for you, (Y/N). Where are your manners?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “I... uh...”

“Carry me in, _please_ , (Y/N).”

“Oh. C-carry me in, please?”

He pauses, his expression unreadable. His hands snake around you as if he were coming in for a hug, then suddenly your feet are off the ground.Your body is cradled in his arms. Being so high up really puts into perspective how tall this form is. And strong apparently. Very, very strong. His hands feel nice against your body, firm yet gentle. His thin fingers grip you tightly, and he begins to walk towards the apartment with you in tow. “That's better. However, you're very heavy and I take no responsibility for dropping you like a hot scraplet.”

Your mouth drops, that unnecessary weight comment leaving you dumbfounded and quite frankly offended. “I'm not heavy,” you retort with a sleepy mumble, “you just can't lift for shit.”

He pauses.“You really don't know how to watch your mouth, do you?”

“I guess I'm too busy watching yours,” you say with a shit-eating grin. You are far too tired to realize that Knock Out is glaring down at you, biting his lip in annoyance and maybe something else. You suddenly feel him toss you up, and he grabs you again, this time your legs are wrapped around his thick waist and you can feel his abs pressed hard up against you through his tight, black shirt. The warmth radiating from his body envelopes you, and... you start to feel it too.

“Now, babydoll,” he purrs, “I don't think you understand that you're low-battery rambling is affecting me in a strange way. You _may_ want to consider keeping your mouth shut if you want me to continue playing nice. I've been good to you, haven't I? Don't you like it when I'm good?” He presses his forehead against yours, his fingers running through your hair. “Why won't you behave for me?” 

You stop yourself from responding, and smile. Your arms find themselves locked around his neck. You kiss him, very softly, on his lips. And he doesn't let you pull back. He keeps his lips on yours as he continues to walk into the apartment. You feel him clawing at your back as he carries you up the you up the stairs, sucking lovingly on your bottom lip. “Give me your key, babe,” he growls through his hungry, barely parted lips. You stick your hand into your pocket and fumble around for the key. After recovering it, you begin the attempt to jam the key into the door while keeping your undivided attention on him. The door, by some sort of miracle, unlocks after several blind tries, and Knock Out thrusts his hips forward, slamming it open loudly. “Honey,” he murmurs, “we're home.”

You ignore your tiredness and give into this... _something else_ that seems to be overtaking your entire body with heat and want. “You're home, baby. You're home wherever I am. What's mine is yours.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Your body?”

“Specifically.”

“Now?”

“Come home to me, Red.”

He hisses a swear before throwing your sleepy ass onto the couch. He pounces on top of you, his breath suddenly very shallow. His eyes trail down your body, his tongue grazing his lips before he bites down on them. “Primus, look at you. I was going to dim the lights, but it seems there's a change in plans. I want to see every single beautiful piece of you. You're a remarkable work of art. An absolute gem.” He lifts up the bottom of your shirt, exposing your tummy and chest. A cool breeze sends chills across your skin, goosebumps texturing your skin like soft braille. “What a strange reaction,” he notes. “I wonder how else I can make you react to me.” He sits up, removing his outer jacket, then crossing his arms over to remove his black t-shirt. It looked good on him, but you decide he looks very good without it.

“I see you've given yourself the body of a god,” you muse, cuddling up with the pillows you've gathered around you. 

He tosses the shirt aside, looming over you again with his broad, toned shoulders. He cranes his head down, glancing over himself before looking back up at you and shrugging. “Mm. If the rims fit.”

“Can you fit me?”

“Lewd.” He bends down, to kiss your lips. Then the base of your neck. Then your collar bone. He begins to trace a trail down your skin just barely with his lips. He crawls backwards, the lower he goes. He reaches your belly button. He frowns. “What is this--”

You hush him, and he complies before kissing that too.

He positions himself at your feet, unbuttoning your bottoms and slipping them off. He pinches them between his fingers, frowning at them and then shrugging before tossing them behind his back. “Won't be needing _that_.” He looks down at your pretty underwear. “Or _that_. As lovely as it is.”

You hook your fingers in between the fabric of your panties and your skin, and pull down slowly. Knock Out watches intently, curious and amused. You pull up your knees and slip your underwear off, lazily tossing it at his face with a cute giggle.

“Hilarious,” he groans through the lingerie. He yanks it off, stuffing half of it into the side of his pants so that the rest dangled out delicately. “You're out of ammo now, though, aren't you?” He leans forward, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, and plants a soft kiss on your clit. You wince at the unfamiliar feeling, and he glances up at you. “What was that?”

“Kinda new to this. Sorry.” You glance to the side, embarrassed. 

He grins. “I'm your first? Ah., what an honor... I'll take real good care of your little body, doll-- you just relax and let daddy do the driving.” He returns his gaze downward, sucking lightly at the same spot. You inhale deeply, adjusting to the mix of sleepiness and arousal pulsating through your body. His tongue begins slowly lapping, each stroke becoming longer and deeper; your fingers find themselves tugging on his hair, pulling him even deeper into you. You feel his low purring as his tongue enters you, tasting your walls, salivating and slurping hungrily. You sigh a low, croaking moan, your legs unconsciously spreading wider, and your back arching up, for him to mouth-fuck you even better. His head bobs back and forth in a steady rhythm, the varying pressure making you even wetter, and a little dizzy. Your head spins as quiet, drawn out, raspy moans are all you can manage while he devours your love spot. Your grasp on his coiff weakens the rougher he gets. His pace quickens, and so does your breath. You release your grasp on his hair, flinging your arms back to dig your nails into the pillows as you reach your breaking point. 

“Ah, ahhh, fuck!” You hiss, your hips bucking up uncontrollably. Your groin starts to tighten, and you feel a warm liquid dripping down from it. A shivering moan escapes you as you shudder, your heart beating like crazy and thumping audibly in your ears. You whimper as Knock Out inserts his tongue all the way in, as far as it can go, and laps up every single drip of cum. His low murmuring rumbles against you, emitting more cum onto his tongue. He finally pulls away, a sticky white trail of liquid still stuck to his bottom lip and chin.

He sits up and sighs contentedly, stretching his arms high above his head. “Mm," he hums after a moment. "Good reaction.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEWD.


	11. Interlude: Allegretto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An update.

I enter the small, dimly lit room. I wear a black dress and black stilettos, my hair a tossled mess that drapes passed my breast. As I close the door behind me, I see him. He sits across the way, comfortably perched in a red arm chair, his leg thrown over the other, one arm draped over the side of the chair and his other hands placed thoughtfully across his mouth as if assessing me. His gaze sticks to me, my body, as I approach him warily. My mouth dries up like cotton, my face hot and my hands trembling just so. I keep my composure. I straighten my back and walk toward him carefully, placing one foot slowly in front of the other. My breathing deepens. I take a seat directly across from him and cross my ankles. I know exactly what he called me in here for. I clench the fabric of my own armchair. The room is deadly silent until he leans forward, his legs apart and his hands clasped together in the space between his knees.

"Luani." His deep, booming voice suddenly growls my name. I wasn't ready, I find, as I jump slightly at the sound of my name.

I tilt my head up and to the side, looking down at him with some defiance. "What," I say quietly.

He squints his eyes. "Can you clarify something for me?"

"What," I repeat. I know what he's going to ask. My nails dig into the arm rests as I brace myself.

"Why," he murmurs in some unidentifiable emotion, "are you such an absolute piece of literary garbage?"

"Ughhh," I groan as I slink down into the seat. "I don't know, alright--"

"You don't know?" He retaliates, suddenly throwing his hands up in exasperation. "When was the last time you updated? When was the last time you even jotted down a note about continuing my story? Do you even know how many people are waiting for you to even sneeze in their direction? You've got a responsibility, Lun, and you're shirking it!" He leans forward more, latching on to the arm rests as he moves his face in front of mine. " _Shirking. It."_

"What's new?" I say, twirling a curly strand around my finger idly. "I really don't have an excuse, I just... I don't even. I can't. I sit down in front of the computer and shit all happens. I usually just skip around, writing what comes to mind even if it's out of order, then go back and fill it in. But even so, I have," -- I pull out a crumpled, stained, sad looking sticky note fragment -- "ideas. Good ideas of things I wanted to write about that were supposed to happen after... the last chapter. You know."

"Oh I know," he says, cocking an eyebrow. "And your ideas."

"Uh-huh."

"They're on that..." His voice trails off as he jabs a finger at my makeshift idea board.

I turn the shred of paper over between my fingers. Is that a pizza stain? "Yeah."

"It's..." He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. He doesn't breathe out. "Can you please just ... do _something_. Anything, really. Anything. I've been butt naked for months."

I smile.

He snaps his fingers. "Concentrate, Lummy, concentrate. Primus, you are absolutely impossible."

"You know what's impossible?" I say, shifting into a ... less ladylike position. Before he can say anything, I whisper, "This _diiiiiiiiiick_."

"I--"

"It's huge. I'm huge."

"Stop--"

"Wanna see?"

 _"Look here!"_ He stands suddenly, towering over me with the corner of his mouth turned up fiercely as if it were caught by a hook. His face is red-- whether from anger or dicks I still don't know to this day-- and he forcefully grips my chin with his thumb and forefinger. "You will finish this. You will _at least_ update another chapter in the next week or so help me, Primus, I will throw you into the garbage."

"Jokes on you, bitch, I fucking live in the trash." I present to him two middle fingers.

His face is blank. I win.


	12. Talking Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot happening.
> 
> Side eyes emoji.

The entire room lights up with fresh sunshine, the rays of vitamin D striking down on your covers and face. You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and arching your back into the warm body cradled up behind your form. A hand is lazily covering your naked breast, you note-- and suddenly you remember a bit of last night. Your eyes pry open half way. The only breathing you hear is your own, but you know you're not alone. You reach your own hand back and squeeze your bed buddy's ass.

He stirs slightly. "You're awake, I see," he says, "and just as naughty as you were last night." A gentle kiss on the back of your neck sends a ticklish shiver down your spine.  
Your lips automatically stretch into a glowing grin. Your lower bit still feels weak and a little strange, as if it didn't belong to you. You give your legs a good stretch, pressing your ass into his crotch. "I'm being naughty, huh? You know that's all your fault. I was an angel before you showed up."

His hand kneads at your boob as he suddenly begins nibbling and softly sucking at your neck. You're taken by surprise by his actions, and your body tenses up anxiously. Round two?

"You're no _angel_ , (Y/N). You think I can't pick up the hormonal aura radiating from your body? I don't know every little detail about human functionalities, but I do recognize when there's a difference in heat signature due to..." He pauses. You can tell there's a dumb smile on his face. "Arousal."

You escape his grasp and turn your body to face him, propping yourself up with an arm resting on one of the pillows. You think back to the short-lived shower the two of you shared. You can feel your face heating up thinking of the first time he touched your naked body; the first time he touched you ... _there_. That same heavy, lusty feeling you felt back then travels from your gut to your groin from just imagining the way he found the perfect balance of pressure and movement. You never knew how to touch yourself, or where to even start-- but it was like he knew your body already, knew exactly _where_ to touch and _how_ to touch. Last night was a confirmation of his skill. Your first oral. Your first orgasm. Your first time. You feel grateful that it was with someone you felt so close to.

But then your thoughts snap back to the present. You mull over his words with a slight frown. "So, wait. How much do you really know?"

"Enough." He lays on his back, his hands behind his head.

"Enough..." You echo dully, not satisfied with his answer.

He turns his head away from you and mutters, "Enough to make you scream my name like you did when I had you in my mouth--"

" Ohhhhh- _kay_!" You snatch a pillow and throw it over his face, smothering him with it. "I am going to make breakfast and pretend like my innocent ears did not just hear you say any of that! If you will excuse me! Good sir!" You hop over him like a hurdle, pull on some panties and a long shirt, and stumble out of the room, slamming the door shut. You cover your mouth and lean against the wall as you hear his beautiful, muffled laughter fill your bedroom.

"Hope you don't mind me keeping your frilly, lacy fabric thing that I pulled off of your cute body last night, by the way," he calls out, his voice sweet and playful. "It would make a lovely hood ornament, don't you think? Or maybe I'll hang it from the rear view mirror? What do you think, baby?"

"I _think_ you need a time out. A long time out," you say sternly, not wanting to acknowledge the dumb smile that's been plastered on your face since you got out of bed.

***

You pull the fridge door open and examine its contents. You decide it could be time to go grocery shopping, but for today, bacon, eggs, English muffins and diced potatoes will be more than enough. You pull out the ingredients, including butter and strawberry jam. Clean pans were already out on the stove as you were too lazy to properly put them away.

You get to work.

The radio out in the living room clicks on, as you had set it to do so at this time. It plays a CD-- a mixtape given to you by an old friend. As you cook, you jam out to a song you haven't heard years. Breakfast smells, the sizzling and popping from the bacon, and the nostalgic music all start to blend together, transporting you to your own world. You expertly waltz around the kitchen, belting out every word and moving dramatically while your masterpiece of a morning meal comes along. You sing into the spatula, swaying your hips as you serenade no one. The oven beeps and you slide over to it, bending over to check on the muffins.

"Is the pop star taking a break from performing? Not that I mind-- I've got a pretty good view of a plump bottom from here."

You straighten and turn towards the voice. Knock Out had been sitting on a stool behind the counter, his hands folded politely on the table as he very lightly swiveled in his seat. "And just how long have you been sitting there?" You ask bluntly, ignoring the blush on your cheeks.

He checks his nails, as if they were suddenly more interesting than you. "I came out to see what was taking you so long. Now I know it's because you were flopping about and screaming into the kitchen utensils."

"My singing isn't _that_ bad," you say, reaching back into the oven to grab the crispy, toasted muffins. "But if I'm really taking that long then come help me cook. Pshh, how dare you make me do all the work, you lazy thing."

His eyes almost roll into the back of his head at your demand; he stands up, stretching his limbs up above his head, his black shirt pulling up a bit at the bottom and revealing an impressive v-line. You act unimpressed, turning your attention back to breakfast -- in Imagination Land, he has you kneeling on the countertop as he does lewd things to you from behind while feeding you. And now you can't telling you're drooling from the smell of food or your inappropriate thoughts. Either way, when you snap back to, you find the big red dog beside you, delicately holding a single brown egg in his hand. "First step?" he asks.

You begin to tell him the steps of your sure-fire way of cooking perfect scrambled eggs; unfortunately, that sexy time dream keeps coming back with a vengeance and you can barely concentrate. Knock Out frowns a bit at your handiwork as you sheepishly pluck pieces of eggshell out of the yellow goop. "I'm ... usually a lot better about cracking eggs neatly," you mutter.

"Distracted?" His voice sounds very teasy.

"By what?" You say, non-chalantly. You begin to stir.

"By me, of course."

You stop stirring. You look up at him. "And why would you assume that I would ever be distracted by you?"

He steps closer, grabbing your arm demandingly so that you turn to face him. You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he holds on tighter as he looks down at you with a tight-lipped frown. "You can lie to me with your mouth all you want, _little girl_ , but your body will always betray your words." His movements are sudden, fast, and firm as he sits you up on the island counter, away from the food. Your heartbeat thumps wild against your chest and your mind keeps telling you that maybe you're imagining this -- maybe he's not actually about to give it to you right here, right now. That would be ridiculous. Right? He stands between your legs, sliding his hands under your shirt to hold your hips steady. He leans in to you, his lips relaxing... But he pauses, and moves his head away. "Why are you looking at me like that, (Y/N)? You look like a deer in headlights."

"The ... The breakfast will get cold ... We should ... finish--"

"It'll still be there when I'm done with your lovely body." He attacks your neck, surprising the fuck out of you. You start moaning immediately, and you can feel his smile against your neck as he feeds on your skin like a plate of hot pancakes. You wrap your feet around his thick torso, throwing one arm lazily over his shoulder and grabbing onto his hair with your free hand. He licks up your neck slowly before landing a quick kiss on your lips. Then another. Then a little bite into your lower lip. The dizzy feeling rushing through your head distracts you from him pulling your shirt over your breast; he admires them for a moment before kissing your lips deeply one last time.

His hands guide you back, and you obediently lie on your backside. His lips find your tummy, and he plants small kisses all around. He looks as though he might say something, but his thought is interrupted by a low gurgling noise. His eyes widen and he looks up at you with curiosity. "What was that disgusting noise your stomach just made? Are you sick?"

You cover your eyes with an arm, heaving a sigh. "No, Doctor," you say with a tinge of annoyance that your fun has to be put on hold so you can explain basic body functions. Again. "I'm starving."

"Oh," he responds, straightening himself. "I'll take care of you later then, I don't want you passing out from fatigue after all--"

" _No_!" You shout, sitting up on the counter, your shirt falling down again. "You could just, oh I don't know, _feed me while you fuck me_?" Heat rushes to your face after blurting out that sentence, but okay.

His face lights up with amusement. His lips part to speak, but he once again is interrupted. This time by a buzzing noise coming from the bedroom. "Your blonde friend, perhaps?"

"Dunno. Stay here and try to remember the steps of cooking those eggs. I want them perfect, okay?" You slip off the counter and smack his ass before scurrying off to find your cell.

**

You flop onto the sheets, snatching your phone of the nightstand.

 _Ooh, a text. But whose number is this?_ You don't recognize the number, but your heart sinks into a void when you recognize the texting style. _How did this fucker get my number?_ You read the wall of text this person has sent you. The further down you get, your hormones is replaced by anger. Your thumb hovers over the reply button, but you receive another text. You expect it to be from that person, but it's from Wylee -- and it's a picture message. Taking this opportunity to cool down from this bullshit, you take a look at Wy's text instead.

It's a selfie, but ... there's another person next to her. A tall gentlemen with a sharp-toothed grin, hunched over a bit to fit in the frame. His hair is an interesting array of colors, mainly white with streaks of red and dark gray. And his eyes ... his eyes were red. _Kind of like ..._

Hold on.

You take your phone into the kitchen, not knowing what to make of it.

"Doc," you say from behind the island, holding out your phone with the photo opened, "you wouldn't happen to know the person standing next to Wylee, would you?"

He finishes up pouring the fluffy eggs onto a plate and he turns to you, unwrapping a white apron that just barely fits on him. He squints as he examines the photo.

"... Hm. That can't be good."

"You know him?"

He shrugs, looking at you. "Could be wrong -- and I mean very, very wrong -- but it looks like Starscream has been poking about with my experiments and gave himself a physical persona as well. Which is a bit strange; I couldn't imagine why he would need to do something like that. He hates flesh almost as much as I do." His eyes travel down your body for a split second. "Well, did."

You look back at your phone. _Starscream? That evil, traitor guy he told me about once? And he has Wylee ..._ "Do we need to be worried about Wylee? I mean, if Starscream has her then she might be in a lot of trouble, right?"

"I don't know that there's a lot he can do in this form, if he's only just now figuring out how to work with it," he says thoughtfully, cupping his chin between his index finger and thumb. "I mean, I'm still trying to figure out everything, especially with this body I sto-- er, created."

What. What? " _What_?!"

"I ... Well, I mean, I had to get a body from _somewhere_. I don't think you can just build a body out of spare parts from a junkyard, you know. No one else was using this squishy shell so I took it. I recycled. Sterilized it, did some tune ups to it and some extra science-y things I'm positive you don't care to hear about, and voilà! Hello, sexy fleshy form!"

"Wow ... You are so, _so_ fucked up, dude."

"Yes," he purrs. "Yes, I am." He points to the food behind him. "Still hungry?"

"Surprisingly."

"Still horny?"

"Debatable."

"What if I fed you while I fucked you?"

"Hm. I suppose it'll do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY-OHHHHHHHHH
> 
> I was debating writing another sex scene or waiting for the next chapter or just waiting for a different time to do it... Pshhh I dunno man, sex is weird af


	13. Inside.

"A-ahh... Mmh. Oh, _fuck_ , that's ... "

Bits and pieces of phrases, moans and hums of approval dribble out between your lips as Knockout reaches around from behind you to feed you some of that sweet muffin while rhythmically pumping into your wet sex with his hard-on. He has your hair gathered into a tight fist as he fucks you, occasionally huffing animalistic grunts as he thrusts his hips into you. You almost lose your balance, being on top of the table on all fours and almost no support aside from Knockout handling you dominant style; he pauses to place the muffin down, adjusts positions to get a grip on your hip, and continues to thrust hard into your heat.

"Faster ... _Faster_ ," you groan almost painfully. You almost feel embarrassed by the tone of desperation in your voice as you command him.

"I can do that."

He shoves the food over to make room on the surface, flipping you on your side and lifting your leg up over his shoulder. His head teases your entrance before slipping in, pumping into you much faster than before, building up that familiar pressure in your groin as your breath becomes uncontrollably more shallow; you begin drooling, unable to control anything as your body becomes too overpowered with lust as the doctor fucks you hard on the tabletop. The plates and silverware clank and clatter to the beat of him pleasuring your body, though you can barely hear anything else over your sex noises. A heavy weight begins to fill up your body and you stiffen; your breath nearly catches in your throat, and your head slowly tilts back. You wince at the sensation of cum dripping like a tiny stream trickling down your love bits and on to his shaft. You're relieved yet light-headed when you can finally inhale again, sitting up and taking in air like you had almost been drowned a moment ago.

"Very good, my little patient," Knockout teases, sweat dripping down his pink face. "Would you like a lollipop for being such a good girl?"

You giggle between your shaky panting. You lean forward, taking his hands between your hands and kissing his lips sweetly. "I think I already have something that needs to be licked, Red." You bite your lip and bat your lashes at him, hoping he gets the message.

He fails to suppress his amusement at your lack of subtly. "I suppose I do have room for dessert, don't I?"

"Say ' _ahh_ ' for me," you murmur as he separates your thighs, leaning into your pussy. Your leg flinches as you feel his tongue obediently licking you up. Your breathing becomes labored again as he presses deeper in, his thumbs massaging into your thighs lovingly as he works his mouth into your heat. His eyes flicker up to yours, observing your lip-bitten, brow-furrowed expression. You keep your eyes locked on his as well, your face hot and streaked with sweat.

He lifts his face up for a moment, a string of cum trailing from his tongue to your underside. "Oh, I _do_ so love our little regular checkups."  
**

Knockout steps into the room with a pink towel wrapped around his waist and a mess of red hair stuck to his forehead and around the frame of his face. He heaves a sigh of contentment.

"You all freshened up?" You pull on your sneakers and a beanie, already ready to go.

Knockout checks himself out in the mirror, stealing one of your combs and grooming his still-damp mane. "This body needs a little break. We're driving today, right?"

"Sure are. We gotta go see what's going on with Wylee and your tall friend."

"Ha. _Friend_ , she says." He dries himself completely before tossing the towel aside and turning to you. "I'm going to transfer my consciousness back down to the car. As much fun as it's been, I'm itching to feel metal and rubber again." He winks and phases out before you can say anything.

The house is officially empty again, and it sort of feels weird. Your relationship with Knockout has changed dramatically, and it's only been a couple of days. As much as you want to lie back and reflect on everything and give your own body a break, you hop to your feet and check your phone. No more messages from Wylee. You decide to call her, hoping she would answer straight away -- no such luck, however. You shoot her a text instead: _"Dude bro, where u at??? and who's the dude man bro next to u? also hi good morning please dont be dead"_

Satisfied with your well thought out message, you head out to meet up with Mr. Speed Racer.

You step out into the sunlight, spotting Knockout right out in front like a piece of sparkling candy. He twists his side mirrors and honks twice.

"Ahh, feels good to be me! Now, get in, sweetspark, we got work to do."

"Sure thing, _sweetspark_." You slip into the passenger's side, pulling out your phone again as Knockout straps you in and closes your door for you. "I sent her a text before I left but she hasn't responded at all. Mm, hey, you wouldn't happen to recognize the place they were at? It didn't look familiar at all."

"Nemeses."

"...Eh?"

"Megatron's ship, you dolt."

"What?! No fucking way, it's not!" The only thing you pulled from Knockout's story about Megatron was that he was a ruthless piece of work -- always trying to takeover shit and not caring who he has to step over or kill to get his dirty work done. An endless army of faceless drones ready to do his bidding, plus Starscream and a couple other lackies who worked close to him. They were just as problematic in their own rights, but Megatron was one step down from cyber satan. And Wylee is currently behind held hostage, probably... Though knowing her, she probably has everybody else as a hostage.

"It is," Knockout says with a bit of irritation in his voice, "and kick my glove compartment like that again and I'll make you ride in the fragging trunk."

You cross your feet together sheepishly and mutter an apology.The car starts up, and he speeds off towards the desert at top speed. "So, dumb question: How are we meant to get up there if we're just driving? Oh, dude! Can you fly? Don't tell me you've got a flight mode, that would be so--"

"I don't have a flight mode."

" ...Oh."

He sighs. "There's really only one way we're getting on that ship,and I'm not entirely sure if I'm ... welcome ... there ..."

"Aw, don't worry!" You try to assure him, petting his dashboard. "How could they resist a cute face like yours?"

"Very easily. Very, very easily."

"Nonsense. How many other medics do they have on that ship?"

"Well. None, really. I'm the only one who can properly, and successfully for that matter, perform surgeries or repairs on other mechs."

"So there's no way they can say no. They need you, yeah?"

".... Yeah." The ride comes to a screeching halt, kicking up a wave a sand. He clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and speaks with a crisp and clear tone confidently: "Knockout to Soundwave. I'm requesting a groundbridge up to the Nemesis. I know it's been a while since I've reported in, but --" He pauses for a beat. "I know. Yes, yes, I _know_. Can't you just ... I _do_ have business there, as a matter of fact. As your only certified medic and science buff besides Shockwave, I have plenty of business aboard ship. But the only business I care about now is with that over-glorified toaster oven Starscream, because he has something that belongs to me and I would love to have little chat with him before prying it from his _cold, dead talons_!"

You freeze, clutching your phone to your chest. Wow.

" ... Thank you, Soundwave, for understanding. And can I just say how lovely it is to hear your voice again?"

The ground begins to vibrate and sand flies everywhere as a swirling portal materializes right before your eyes. "We ... We're going in _that_ thing?"

"You might want to stay buckled in, honey. It's gonna be a bumpy ride." He takes off, wheels screeching, diving straight into the colorful corridor. Your insides churn and flip as the groundbridge transports the two of you along, and you can nearly feel your breakfast coming back up. You hold your stomach and throw a hand over your mouth, more afraid of getting vomit on the pristine leather seats than the thought of hanging out on Megatron's territory. The groundbridge comes to a stop, spitting the both of you out; you brace yourself for impact, but before the vehicle could even touch the ground, the parts around you begin to shift and move.

Knockout has transformed. You are inside a giant robot. "(Y/N)? Are you alright?"

You could see absolutely nothing. The seats, the dashboard ... Everything was gone except for the floor, which was the only soft thing in your immediate surroundings. You attempt to feel around, but there is nothing to feel but warm metal walls. At least there was leg room to stretch out, but there was no way you could stand -- though that's probably for the best. "I ... I'm okay."

"Good to hear. Now keep quiet. No need to draw attention to ourselves if we want to find the girl quickly."

"Right." You hang on tight as he begins to move, the sounds of gears and metal parts whirring and clanking echoing throughout your compartment. With no way of knowing what's going on in the outside world, you pull out your phone to check for any updates on Wylee -- but there nothing. Actually, no bars whatsoever up here. Haven't these guys heard of wifi? You whisper, "Doc, where are we going right now? I don't have any way of getting in contact with her."

"I have a feeling in my tank I know exactly where they both are."

You blink, not having even a good guess where that might be. Only a few moments pass before you hear the sound of what you think are huge metal doors sliding apart and shutting behind you.

" _Starscream_." Knockout's voice module is deeper than usual as he hisses his shipmate's name, and it rumbles around you, forcing the floor to vibrate.

You hear cackling, and then an unfamiliar voice -- something slimy and untrustworthy, evil and manipulative, smooth yet irritating. Kind of sexy, actually. "Why, if it isn't Medic Knockout! Primus, how many solar cycles has it been since you've been around, hm? The Nemesis has been in such a ruckus without our favorite --"

"Shut it." You lunge backward as Knockout suddenly steps forward. "Why are you in my laboratory? How did you have a human form? Where is the girl you were with and where is she now? What--"

"Well, if you wanted to catch up so badly, why didn't you just say so?"

You hear thundering, mechanical footsteps approach you. Knockout doesn't say anything, but you note the room feels significantly warmer than before.

"She's not dead, if that's what's going through your little processor."

"Give her to me."

"Ah-ah-ahh! Not so fast, Knockout," Starscream taunts. "You see, while you were on your ... extended vacation, we'll call it, Soundwave sent his little birdy to keep an eye on you. And it was very shocking to find you frolicking about with a disgusting flesh form, mingling with humans and taking on a human identity. I remember when you first started--"

The voice becomes smaller as he walks away. You press up against the mech's chest to get a better listen.

"You did simple things I expected from you. The drive-in 'm _oo-vees_ ', the drag racing. But then you started getting closer to them, didn't you?"

You feel the room get even hotter. Is ... he getting mad? You try to pat the walls in comfort, but he ignores your gesture. "Don't start, Starscream. I know what you're trying to get at and it won't work."

"I'm not _getting_ at anything, Doctor," he growls lowly, "I'm just telling you what I observed. For instance, how you went to every little human party you could get your greasy little servos on and interfaced with nearly every female you found decent enough for your tastes. Isn't that right? Does your little human companion know about that? Did you ever tell her that you're using her--"

" _ENOUGH_!"

There's nothing to keep you grounded as Knockout leaps forward to attack; you hear the sound of electricity popping and metal hitting metal, then Starscream struggling. "Knockout! Fuck, what are you doing?!" You shout, your nails digging into the floor as you lay flat against it. Everything around you flips and spins like the hardest bouncy house ever as the two metal giants battle against each other.

"I knew you were going to get caught up in your little Earth life and would need more than a little invitation back on the ship for you to return." You hear clicking noises, like two gigantic guns getting set to fire. "So I wandered into your little project. I found your notes, your multiple failed attempts. Your final and successful attempt. You laid everything out before you escaped without a word to be with your fragging sparkmate--"

"She's not my sparkmate."

"Does _she_ know that?"

Your compartment is unbearably hot now. Was it from his embarrassment? Anger? _Your_ anger? .... It never even occurred to you what you were to him. It just seemed natural and good after he had come home with you the first night. But was it possible he was ... using you for something, like Starscream had suggested? No ... No way.

He continues, "I tested it out on myself, finding a proper body and putting all the materials and tools together. It wasn't hard, save for getting used to the feeling of being so small and practically useless. Why you always choose the weaker forms, I will never know. First he wants to be a wheeled vehicle instead of a flight mode like every other slagging decepticon, then he wants to be a human. You're a _very_ strange mech, you know."

"You're wearing high heels," Knockout retorts sarcastically.

Starscream sputters furiously before shouting, "Silence! They're called _struts_ and they're functional, not just fashionable! Unlike you, you shining red hunk of scrap metal!"

"That's no way to talk to someone you're trying too convince to come work for you again."

A beat of silence passes, but you can hear the smirk in Starscream's voice. "You're right. But I do still have a way to convince you don't I? You want your little _bitch_ back?"

Nope. That's it. Fuck everything else. But specifically, fuck Starscream. You press your knees up to your chest, then kick your feet forward against Knockout's chest. You hear him swear in pain, but you keep at it. "Let me out right the fuck now. You had your turn to talk -- now it's mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this what you wanted?


End file.
